Phoenix Songbird
by Shade3
Summary: Philip/Chloe. 10 Chapters. Completed. Story: Fall sem. sen. year. Modifies start of relationship at jun. year LBD & begins after serenade. Chloe behaves strangely as week progresses, putting greater & greater strain on their romance. Confused, Phil becom
1. 1

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

Chapter 1  


  


She swirled her fingers in the dark water. The pier was mysterious and romantic at sunset. She looked up and smiled, as he laughed and tucked her wayward curl behind her ear. It had never been this easy, this natural to be with someone. She playfully flicked water toward his direction, but he caught her before she could run. She giggled helplessly, as he tickled her. In a flicker, his expression changed and his lips were on hers. Her fingers raced through his dirty blond hair, while the excited shiver ran through her. The sound of his heart thumped thickly in her head, as he pulled her closer and closer and closer. She felt wanted, cherished. Safe. 

But then, his fingers bit into her sides, his stubble scratched her cheeks, and his teeth cut into her lip. Her mind screamed in shock. Her hands, which had a moment before pressed him to deepen the kiss, jammed into his chest to push him away. She pulled back to see his face blurred and unrecognizable. Fear had her striking out and rising to flee. She was too afraid to look back. She begged her lethargic legs to move faster through the growing dark to escape again pain and betrayal. Somewhere in the distance, Philip's voice called to her, begging her to come back. 

  


  


Chloe woke with start. She'd reared out of bed, frantically looking about for danger. She was in her room of lavenders and opera posters. Her mother and Craig were sleeping down the hall. For now, she was safe. Her eyes closed. Her body trembled in relief, as her heartbeat finally steadied. She hugged herself to fight the sudden chill, then ran her hands over her face to find her eyes still damp. 

It had seemed so real. 

She rose from bed, pulled her robe tightly to herself, as she tiptoed to the bathroom. She didn't bother with the light and splashed water on her face. The clean, soft scent of the towel comforted her, just as she peered at her shadowed reflection. Little did she know how young and vulnerable she looked without her makeup and dark glasses. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes as she exhaled. 

I'm okay. It was just a dream. A bad dream. Must have been her first steak at dinner tonight. Philip had coaxed her through a jovial dare to join the world of carnivores. She'd only stomached two or three bites before returning to her vegetable pasta. She admitted blushing and feeling pleased not only to try something new, but also to make Philip happy. 

She turned from the bathroom mirror, fastidiously folded away the towel, and went back to her room. The soft glow of her bedside lamp soothed her. 

But it had seemed so real. 

Her hand was on the phone before she could think. Frowning, she pulled back her hand. How could he help? What would she say? Philip, I had a nightmare. Chase the monsters away? How could he? When he was the monster. Or was it because he was beginning to mean so much to her that she was frightened? She was beginning to depend on him. 

No, she thought, glancing at her bedside clock. It was 4:30AM and she wouldn't call him. What would he think, if he knew how afraid of him - of everything - she was? Jan and Mimi were right. She was a freak. 

Saddened, she stretched out by her bay window and blankly looked out into the night. 

  


  


Nancy found her there, sleeping but frowning against the morning sunlight. After lowering the shades, she pulled a light blanket from the bed and gently tucked it around her daughter. How beautiful her child was, Nancy thought, as she smoothed Chloe's hair from her forehead. And how troubled. For now, she marveled how essential Chloe had become to the Wesley home, despite the tumultuous relationship between mother and daughter. It still hurt her that Craig could have so easy a relationship with Chloe - so much easier than Nancy had with her. But nine months of desperate bonding attempts had been met with fierce rejections. Patience, she had learned, was the key. With teenagers, one needed patience - and proper timing. 

Indulging in a mother's sigh, she kissed Chloe's forehead and quietly left the room to do the morning chores. 

  


  


With youth's limitless energy, Philip slid down the railing to the marble-decked foyer, barely reached a two-foot landing before bounding toward the dining room. Even Nicole's usual pitying look to his brother, Lucas, could not dull his spirits. Henderson dutifully carried this morning's breakfast on a silver tray upon his shoulder. 

Philip circled about him, "Morning, Henderson! Great day, huh?" 

Expertly avoiding a collision, the servant set down the tray on a nearby table. "Master Philip, we're in happy spirits this morning. I take it your evening with Miss Chloe went well." 

Instantly, his eyes gleamed. "Better than well. It went… perfect. See, we went to Tuscany and then you won't believe it, she actually ate-" 

Nicole laughed. "Be careful, Kate. You may not be the only woman of Philip's heart anymore." 

Philip turned to see his mother walk elegantly into the room. 

Kate shot Nicole a cold stare, before greeting her son. "Good morning, baby. You sound very excited today." 

His Cheshire grin broke her heart a little, realizing that Nicole's careless remark held some truth. But immediately, her heart warmed, when she saw how carefree and happy he was. 

She gave his cheek a kiss. "So, what's all the excitement? As I came in, I distinctly heard Chloe's name and Tuscany. Whatever could it mean?" 

His grin only widened. "We had a good time last night. I mean, the limo and suit was a hit and I actually got her to try-" 

"Good morning, sir," announced Henderson. 

"Good morning, Henderson," said Victor, as he stepped into the room in his daily suit and tie. "Good morning, son. I gather I don't have to ask how your time with Chloe fared." 

"No, everyone and their mother already has, so let the kid talk," Nicole sassily speared a strawberry, while Victor and Kate both shot her cold glares. 

"You were saying, son," encouraged his father, as he filled his plate and sat down to the dining table. The maid brought him black coffee and this morning's stock summaries. 

"I picked her up and she looked awesome. Like… awesome. Then, we had dinner and she actually tried steak." When his audience offered only blank stares, he added, "Chloe's a vegetarian." Pronounced "ah's" filled the room. 

His happy banter continued on, as the Kiriakis home finished their gourmet French toast and eggs. 

  


  


Saturday. The only day of the week untainted by responsibility. What else could a man do but hedonistically bask in it? After a ceremonial pat on his satisfied belly, Philip saluted his family farewell to pursue a blissful way to spend blessed Saturday. He passed the basketball courts to find Jason and the guys playing a fiercesome half-court game. 

Deciding explosive testosterone did not suit the day, he continued on to find Shawn, Belle, and Mimi in the park. Philip nearly choked from laughter. The three were sitting under a willow tree by the man-made pond. From the looks of it, Mimi was instructing hapless Shawn on how to braid Belle's hair. Shawn's focused expression reminded him more of a guy dissecting a nuclear bomb rather than styling hair. Belle was covering her face, in shame or in hilarious fits of giggles. Nope, too much gooey estrogen and no camera for blackmail photos. Philip made a mental note to make endless fun of Shawn later. 

When he found himself under Chloe's bedroom window, he found he could laugh at himself. Who was he kidding? The girl's got him hooked. Smiling with memories of another magical night before Chloe's window, Philip threw a pebble. When there was no response, he threw three more, until he resigned himself to the more conventional approach. Just as he stepped toward the front door, her window opened. Out came a very sleepy Chloe. 

"Sleeping in, Juliet?" said Philip, flashing his dimples at full force. 

She rubbed her eyes against the light. "What? Philip?" 

He felt his smile soften. What was sexier than a girl sleepily murmuring his name? "Hey, beautiful. I hope, you were dreaming about me." 

Her brows drew together, when something clicked in the back of her mind. Shrugging it off, she drummed up a smile. "What are you doing here so early in the morning?" 

"Early? It's like 10:30 and I distinctly recall getting you back at a respectable hour. That cow meat must have done a number on you," Philip concluded, grinning ear to ear. "Well, it's a beautiful Saturday morning. We're too old for cartoons, so I figured we could hang out in the park today. I saw the old gang there by the pond. What do you say, Chloe? Come out and play." 

She gave a laugh. "I guess I could. Could I meet you there? I'm not exactly decent." 

"What? Chloe Lane, be a trendsetter. Outdoor PJs could be in this season," Philip said, wiggling his eyebrows. When she only cocked a brow, he relented, "Ok, be a slave to convention. I'll be by the big willow tree by the lake. Belle, Shawn and Mimi will probably still be there." At the mention of Mimi's name, Chloe rolled her eyes. "She's giving Shawn beauty lessons, using Belle as their guinea pig." 

"What?" 

"Hurry it up or you'll miss out. See you soon, beautiful!" With a wink, he strolled out of her yard toward Salem Park. 

Sighing as his blond streaks disappeared from view, Chloe pulled herself back into her room to get ready. Vaguely, she remembered she'd awoken from a bad dream in the middle of the night. Details were fuzzy now, but she knew it had something to do with Philip. She wondered what it was about and what it meant. Maybe she could talk to him about it. Shaking away those thoughts, she quickly showered and dressed to meet her friends. 

  


  


"Bye, Nancy, Craig! I'm going to hang out with Belle and the others!" Chloe was halfway down the porch steps, before Nancy hurriedly reached the door, calling for her. 

"Chloe, honey, what about breakfast?" 

"I'll grab something on the way. I'll be back later." With that, she rushed off toward the park. 

Shaking her head, Nancy gave another motherly sigh and closed the front door. 

  


  


"Ow! Shawn, are you trying to pluck me bald?!" 

"Hey, this wasn't my idea, remember? Besides, I'm almost done. So, chill, Broomhilda." 

"Mimi, what is this boy doing to my hair?" 

"Um… he's doing alright for a first-timer… I bet New Yorkers would think it's glam." 

"On the runway or on Broadway?" 

"Um… more like Greenwich Village." 

Belle let out an exasperated growl. Mimi's suggestion to show Shawn the complexities of hairstyling was turning horrid. Admittedly, she had always fantasized about his fingers running through her hair. Who knew it could be this painful? 

"Voila! Mademoiselle, your fur, I mean, hair is - how do you say? - magnifique!" 

"Ok, Frenchy, what have you done to me?" she asked, as she pulled out her compact mirror. One blink at her reflection and she let out a bloodcurdling scream. "Shawn Douglas Brady!" 

Like any smart man, he bolted up the willow tree and hoped, despite adrenaline, she wouldn't follow. 

"I'm going to get you, Shawn, if it's the last thing I do!" 

"Come on, Belle," coaxed the treed Shawn, "It's not that bad. I'm a healthy heterosexual guy and I'm telling you, it ain't that bad." 

She only bared her teeth up at him. 

"Belle, you know-" 

"Mimi…" 

"Shutting up." 

"Hey, what's going on?" 

Belle shot Philip a warning glare. 

He bit down on his tongue to keep from laughing. "So, um… what's up?" 

"I am! How's it hanging, Phil?" 

Phil looked up at his cornered friend and smothered his chuckle with a cough. "I'm doing alright. You know, my family's been thinking about getting a poodle-" 

"Very funny, Philip!" hissed Belle. "Oh, Mimi, help me un-Shawn my hair." 

"What's going on?" asked Chloe moments later, finding Mimi bent over a squatting and bizarre-looking Belle. She saw Philip's eyes tearing from suppressed laughter. When the tree shook from above, she saw Shawn nearly tumble from the branches. She quickly put two and two together. 

Suppressing her own grin, Chloe settled beside Mimi to help Belle unlace her hair. 

  


  


"Good thing she forgave Shawn right after, or else he would have had to sleep in that tree," chuckled Philip. 

"She's a better woman than I am. If it were my hair, he'd be building a nest right about now." 

"Oh, I don't know…" he said, twirling a tress between his fingers. 

"Philip…" Her eyes narrowed behind the dark rims of her glasses. 

He broke into laughter. "You would have climbed up after me, skirt, heels, and all. I wouldn't put anything passed you." 

She gave him a playful shove, before his arm circled her waist and they settled into a quiet stroll. 

They had wandered off, after Mimi ran over to check out the half-court, half-naked basketball game, and Shawn and Belle began another flirty argument. Carrying bags of an impromptu takeout lunch, the couple finally found a secluded embankment beside the water. Low tide revealed a sandy little beach with rocks, which provided a lopsided table and seats. Munching on burgers - veggie burger for Chloe - and fries, they admired the water in comfortable silence, laughing when a bold pigeon swooped down and stole a fry. 

Later, he pulled her close and told her a funny story about his brother Austin. 

"So, he swears that he was Adam and Greta was Eve. And according to him, leaves chafe." 

"You're putting me on. Were they high?" 

"No." 

"Inebriated." 

"No," chuckled Philip. 

"Over-medicated?" 

He laughed, "He swears it was real. My mom made an appointment with Belle's mom for him." 

"Poor Austin. You should really be worried, though." 

His expression turned serious. "Why?" 

"Because this might be genetic," joked Chloe. 

"Oh, yeah?" he dared with a devilish grin. 

He caught her before she could run. She giggled helplessly, as he tickled her, until her glasses slipped to the ground, eyes tearing from the onslaught. Wiping her eyes, she leveled a defiant smirk and raised her proud chin. 

In a flicker, his expression changed and his lips lowered upon hers. Her fingers traveled up his arms, his neck, his cheeks and through his hair, while excited shivers ran through her. The sound of her heart thumped thickly in her head, as the water slapped gently against the shore. He pulled her closer and closer and closer. She was wanted, cherished. Safe. 

Suddenly, fear lanced through her and she pulled frantically away. 

"Baby, what's wrong? Chloe?" 

Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she found her muscles frozen in place. She was still in his lap, but refused to look at him. 

"Chloe? I'm so sorry. I was going too fast. Chloe, please look at me." Gently, he caught chin to turn her face toward him. She squeezed her eyes shut. Please, please, please, her mind pleaded. 

"Chloe, look at me. Please, beautiful, look at me." 

Gradually, her tear-streaked eyes cracked open. He felt her shudder in relief. Cautiously, she guided her fingers over his face. Completely confused now, Philip asked, "What's wrong?" 

Her eyes filled again and his heart quaked. She laid her head on his shoulder and a hand over his heart. "Just hold me for a while, please Philip." Her voice shook as she spoke, so he silently held her, as the sun descended in the afternoon sky. 

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

   [1]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/mystories



	2. I dreamed a dream

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

Chapter 2 - [I dreamed a dream][2]  


  


They watched the sun settle over the horizon. All the while, Philip held her and stroked her hair. Questions raced through his head, but he remembered that jolt of fright, when she suddenly pulled away and shook in his arms. So, he'd said nothing and simply held her, hoping she'd share whatever it was that had frightened her. 

Chloe always strove to be honest and direct. "Sometimes I like to talk. Sometimes I don't. Take it or leave it," challenged those intense eyes behind dark spectacles. "I don't want anyone to kiss me but you," she'd said one night, swept away by the power of a kiss. His kiss. With Chloe, she let you know where she stood. That took guts. To a Kiriakis, that earned respect. To Philip, that sent him headlong in love. That and her sexpot body. 

As the sky darkened, they slowly walked back toward Chloe's house, each thinking about tonight's events. 

He cursed himself for letting his hormones get the best of him. How often had Chloe blushed, when he'd tell her how beautiful she was or how she amazed him? During his late night visits, she, oblivious, would sit and chat with him. Meanwhile, he fought to keep his hands to himself, as his eyes devoured every inch of her. Who could have imagined once-"Ghoul Girl Chloe" slept in an angel white nightee? An angel. That was what she was to him. An innocent. If only she knew, what paths his sinful mind had traveled. 

But there was something else, he thought. Tonight, she'd cried, but gave no clue to the cause. Whatever it was, he'd fix it. Although for now he couldn't explain why, he needed to fix it for her. 

As they approached her house, Chloe almost sighed in relief. One instinct made her want to run for the door. Another made her turn to face him. 

With his hand gently cupping her cheek, his eyes searched hers. "Tell me?" 

She evaded his gaze. What could she tell him, when she hardly understood herself? 

"Chloe… what happened before… was it something I did?" 

"No. Yes." She turned away in frustration. "I don't know." 

Still confused, Philip ran a hand through his hair. "Was I moving too fast? Did I scare you?" 

"You-no-I don't know." She slumped down on the porch steps, miserable. "Maybe, you're wasting your time with me, Philip." 

"What?" He reached for her, but let his arms drop. "What are you talking about?" 

When she didn't answer, he let out a sound of helpless frustration. 

"Chloe, you know how I feel about you. I really want to be with you." He took a nervous gulp. "Are you saying you don't want to be with me?" 

Dejected, she hung her head, leaning against the post. 

Philip closed his eyes and inwardly begged for patience. And hope. He kneeled down before her and took her by the shoulders. 

"Chloe, look at me." When she did, he searched those sad eyes for some hint behind her torture. "Do you know how I feel about you?" She nodded. "Do you feel the same way?" Her eyes began to fill, but she nodded. The grip around his heart loosened. "Then, it's something else. Did something happen?" Her tears were quiet and she rested her forehead on his shoulder. 

Philip felt his shoulders droop, realizing they hadn't progressed much from where they'd started tonight. He looked up at the brightening stars. 

How did this happen? Before, his life revolved around his Kiriakis name, competition, and popularity. In other words, himself. That seemed eons ago. Before Chloe. He drew his arms around her and ran his hands up and down her back to comfort. Now, look at him. For all his reputation with girls, he was clueless on how to help the first one that really mattered. 

"Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm here for you. You know that, right?" She sniffed and nodded against his shoulder. "That's how it goes… at least, that's how I want it to go, with us. I tell you my secrets and you tell me yours. You come to my football games. I-I go to your operas. Sounds like a good deal, right?" He felt her begin to relax against him, so he could finally rest his head against her hair. "Whatever it is, it's gonna be alright. You'll see." She sighed and gently stroked his back, praying he was right. 

  


  


After a tender kiss and her promise to call him, if she needed him, Chloe quietly retreated inside to her room. She dropped her bag on her dresser and fell face-first onto the bed. Frustrated with herself, she flipped over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. 

Her feelings for Philip should have been clear, but they weren't. What happened tonight? What girl could look into his deep blue eyes and not gleefully hand him her soul? He was caring, funny, and attractive as sin. Any normal girl would hold onto Philip Kiriakis as tight as she could and never doubt a thing. Obviously, she was not a normal girl. 

Sighing, she turned to a shelf and flipped through her CDs. Her music was the one constant in her life. Music came through, when all else in the world failed her. Tonight, she needed to expunge the restlessness creeping under her skin. 

Puccini? Verdi? Sad and intense. Maybe. She felt the pressure close in from all sides with no room to breathe. Ricky Martin? N'Sync? No, she didn't want to dance. The plastic cases clicked and clacked, as she plowed through her music collection. Miles Davis? Kenny G? No, she didn't want to lay back and drift. She wanted to claw, scream, and purge. 

Her eyes fell upon "Phantom of the Opera." On the cover was that ghastly yet seductive mask, stark and white. She traced its image with her fingertip, mesmerized, as she often was, by it and the torment beneath. How she'd also felt the world's rejection and cruelty. How she'd also withdrawn into herself for comfort. She fingered the mask again. She knew exactly what loneliness lay behind it. 

After she popped in the first CD, Chloe walked to a window, riddled with teeny cracks the size of flying pebbles. The Phantom lamented life's injustices to a wide-eyed young girl. As the Phantom's anguish filled the room, Chloe climbed in bed, hugged a pillow to her, and let the tears come. 

  


  


The next afternoon, the young hunks of Salem displayed their impressive physiques in an all-out playground basketball showdown. Despite falling temperatures, their tanks were translucent with sweat. 

"Stick with football, Kiriakis," taunted Shawn, "B-ball's for those of us with coordination, agility, and…" as he evaded Philip's check and shot a three-pointer, "…Natural grace." Shawn flashed a sly grin. 

"Nice shot, my man," high-fived a flushed Brady. 

"Pure luck," retorted Philip, dribbling, faking right to get by Shawn, "Prepare for serious payback. Come on, Jase. Show 'em how it's done." 

Jason took the pass and drove through Brady's check. Sailing into the air, he slam-dunked the ball home. He landed with a wolfish howl. Height definitely had its advantages. 

Completely at ease with each other, the boys grabbed their water bottles and guzzled. A giggling group of girls coyly strolled by, while the boys dried off on their sweatshirts. 

"Welles, legs, 3 o'clock," grinned Brady, "I think, she's winking at you." 

"Man, God bless mini-skirts. Always was a sucker for legs," drooled Jason. 

"And ass, tits, hair, and lips," chuckled Shawn, "Did I miss anything?" 

"Eyes." 

The three turned to look at Philip. At that moment, he made it his business to dust off his sneakers. His companions exchanged knowing looks and smirked. The K-Man had it bad. He had their fraternal pity, as they shook their heads and turned back to the girls. After a brief discussion, Jason and Brady sauntered over. With chests puffed and shirts flung over their debonair shoulders, the peacock duo charmed their way into a flirtatious conversation. 

Meanwhile, Shawn walked over to his unusually quiet friend. 

"Jase and Brady collecting their harem, huh?" After pulling his shirt over his head, Philip smoothed his sweat-darkened hair. 

"Yeah. And as I recall, you'd be up there right along with them, not too long ago." 

"Well, that was then." 

"Uh-huh. Meaning, now there's Chloe. Man, I never thought I'd see the day 'lady's man Kiriakis' hooked by one girl." 

Feeling slightly defensive, Philip gave an incredulous look, "You're one to talk. I've got two words for you: Belle Black." 

"What?" His voice grew suspiciously nervous. "Belle's… Belle's Belle, ok? Besides, we were talking about you and Chloe, not me and-me." 

"Denial, dude. You are so in it," chuckled Philip. "Anyway, I guess, me and Chloe are getting pretty close." Like most guys in such intimate male-to-male conversations, Phil shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "She's special, that's all." 

Giving him an amicable slap on the back, Shawn grinned. "Well, I'm happy for you guys." 

"Thanks, man." 

"Whatever. Thank God, she forgave us for that stupid bet. What'd you do to get her to go out with you again anyways? 

Philip's face flushed, remembering a musical night before Chloe's window. "Just turned on the Kiriakis charm." 

Shawn only grunted, suspecting old Phil was holding back on him. 

"Whatever, man. Here come Jason and Brady. By the looks on their faces, can we say jackpot?" 

"Dudes, you two missed out! Those legs are even better up close." Jason wiggled his eyebrows. 

"Those legs and her friends are having a monster party this Friday and we're all invited. That includes you two wallflowers." Brady gave Philip a friendly punch in the shoulder. 

  


  


"Euuu, gross!" 

"Cool!" 

"That's it! Push, Sugar!" 

"Oh, here they come!" 

Sugar, exhausted, gave her new puppies a loving tongue-bath. 

"Wow! Five puppies! Good job, Sugar," cooed a lovestruck Belle. "Maybe…" 

"Don't even start, Belle. Your last pet is why your building forbids animals," reminded Mimi, though one particular pink furball had already stolen her heart. 

"Twitchy," sniffed Belle, as she remembered her beloved friend, "Did not mean to give grumpy Mrs. Bosley a coronary, ok? It was her own fault for always smelling like dairy." 

"Who's Twitchy?" asked Chloe, stroking Sugar's ears. 

"Belle's little white mouse. I wasn't too crazy about that thing either." Mimi ignored Belle's indignant sniff. "Anyway, Twitchy went on a personal field trip to a neighbor's room. The lady started screaming and clutching her chest. An ambulance carted her off to the hospital, but not before chewing out management for a rodent infestation. After that, no animals were allowed in the building." 

"And I had to give Twitchy away," pouted Belle. 

Chloe and Mimi exchanged grins, establishing a momentary truce. 

"Well, I'm sure Nancy would let each of us name a puppy. We'll leave the other two to her and Craig." 

"I dunno, Chloe. They all look kinda identical with the wet fur and all. We could wait until they at least open their eyes," said Belle, after inspecting each squirming bundle. 

"Well, I'll name mine right now," announced Mimi, pointing to a pink runt with sparse white fur and noticeable ears. "He's Floppy." 

"His homeboys will definitely appreciate that name," said Chloe dryly. 

The girls looked at each other and laughed. 

"Ok, ok. I pick that one." Belle named a chocolate-colored female with a pink nose "Nestlé." 

"As in Nestlé Tollhouse?" Chloe shook her head. 

"Hey, next to diamonds, chocolate is a girl's best friend," joked Belle. 

Chloe looked over the remaining three pups. Finally, she found one that was black all over, but for the white on his nose and three paws. "Merlin." 

"Like the wizard?" asked Belle. 

"Like the great sorcerer and protector of Camelot." 

"We'll see who's the protector and who's the wuss, when these guys open their eyes," grinned Mimi. "Who's the lucky dad, anyway?" 

"We don't know. Craig's been cursing every male dog in the neighborhood for weeks. After the puppies are weaned, we'll have to give them away." 

"Oh, no. You're not giving away my Floppy. Once our house is done, he's coming with us," promised Mimi. 

"He'll definitely christen it for you," grinned Chloe. 

Mimi playfully stuck a tongue out at her. 

Sugar let out a big yawn and settled in with her new family. 

"Man, she's really tired," whispered Belle. 

"Come, ladies. Our work is done for tonight." Chloe stood from under the desk and stretched. Her muscles were stiff from sitting an hour on the floor of Craig's home office. Her friends followed suit. "Hopefully, in a couple weeks, Craig can have his desk back. Let's just say, he's already made an appointment with the vet." 

The girls laughed. 

"You know, we should've made the boys come over. They'd develop a totally new respect for women," said Belle, as they followed Chloe into the living room. 

"Yeah, Jason, for instance, needs special ed in that department," Chloe said, as she settled into a recliner. 

"Hey, he's not that bad." When Chloe and Belle both gave her inquiring looks, Mimi felt her cheeks flush. "I mean, I've met worse." 

Chloe and Belle exchanged grins in mutual understanding. 

"Say, wasn't Jason playing basketball on Saturday?" asked Belle. 

"As a matter of fact," answered Chloe, tapping a finger to her lips, "Yes, indeed he was. Of course, Mimi would be a better one to ask, since she specifically ran off that day to watch." 

By now, Mimi's face was completely red. "I w-wouldn't know anything about that." Faced with sly feminine grins, Mimi gave up and squealed, "Oh, my God, that boy's got a body." 

The three broke into laughter and gossip. 

  


  


Chloe smiled, as she climbed into bed. Belle was almost tearful, when she said goodbye to her puppy and promised to come visit the next day. Lord, were her parents in for a Nestlé campaign. So wonderful was it finally to smile about friends. Her friends. To share joys and tears with. 

Still smiling, she answered the phone on the first ring. 

"Hi, beautiful." 

Her smile softened at the sound of his voice. She hugged a pillow to her and blissfully recounted the day's happy events to Philip. 

  


  


Sobbing, Chloe reared out of bed. She laid a hand on her aching cheek and closed her eyes. It's just a dream, it's just a dream, her mind chanted it like a mantra. Get a grip, Chloe. 

The bedside clock read 3:45AM. Her hand shook, as she reached for the phone and dialed. She drew the covers around her, as the line rang and rang. 

"H-Hello?" yawned a semi-conscious Philip. 

At the sound of his voice, Chloe gave a small whimper, as the tears ran down her cheeks. She could hear his hand rub his stubbly chin. 

"Hello? Chloe, is that you?" 

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

   [1]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/mystories
   [2]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/music/idreamed.html



	3. 3

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

Chapter 3  


  


"Hello? Chloe, is that you?" 

"She let out a sob, "Ph-Philip..." 

"Instantly awake, he switched on his bedside lamp. "Baby, what's wrong?" 

"I-I'm so scared." Chloe hiccupped from the tears. 

"Of what? What happened? You want me to come over? I'm coming over--" 

"No, Philip, I-I just need you to talk to me. Please..." 

"Ok, ok, it's going to be ok," he soothed, as he rubbed a hand over his face, frantically thinking of what to say. "I'm here, baby. Whatever it is, I'll kick its ass." 

Chloe choked up a laugh. 

He let out a grateful breath. "Yeah, no one messes with my girl and gets away with it." 

Her heavy heart lightened with each ridiculous word. 

Philip heard her sigh and hoped the crisis had passed. 

"Chloe, please tell me what happened." 

If only she knew, so she could explain it to him. It all seemed so silly now that his voice so lovingly cradled her. 

"I just overreacted to something. I'm fine now. Thanks to you." 

His shoulders relaxed finally against the headboard. "You, overreact? Never!" He was rewarded with a giggle. "So, um... what are you wearing?" 

Chloe laughed, settling against her pillows, as her eyelids gratefully drooped.

  


  


"Whoa, K-Man. Heavy night?" Jason gave his old buddy a look of pity, while he pulled on his socks and cleats. 

Philip yawned hugely and ran his knuckles over his exhausted eyes. "Yeah, whatever, man. Too bad you missed the party. There were girls with legs up to their necks." 

Jason let out a snort. "Aw, did the girlfriend keep you up? Up, being the operative word." That comment earned some hearty male chuckles throughout the locker room. 

Philip counted to ten and let out a breath. After a month of random arguments and punches, he'd finally gotten Jason to quit the "Ghoul Girl" and "Vampira" thing. The breakup with Jan definitely helped. Instead, Chloe was now dubbed "the girlfriend" or something to that effect. Philip figured, given another month or so, Jason might actually upgrade Chloe to her real name, accompanied with some respect. But he was trying, Philip reminded himself. Like his girlfriend, his old buddy needed transition time. 

Philip pulled on his scarred practice gear and thought about the early morning phone call. Something serious was going on with her. He could feel it. But she wasn't ready to tell him and he'd have to accept that. Or he'd seduce it out of her. Deciding the latter sure had his vote, he grabbed his helmet and ran out to the field with his teammates. 

After a briefing on next week's opponents and the day's drills, the huddle broke and Philip hustled into position. Nearby, several cheerleaders shook their wares in routine, hoping to catch his eye. He didn't notice. He started the count, shuffling up and down the line of players. 

Just then, he caught sight of a knockout with a waterfall of tresses waving in the wind, blowing him a shy kiss from the bleachers. Suddenly, a ball shot into his chest, as a giant slammed him to the ground. The red-faced coach angrily blew his whistle, threw down his cap, and shouted for his starting quarterback to get his head out of the clouds. Meanwhile, his teammates chuckled, knowing exactly why ole Phil was distracted. Accepting a helping hand, Philip rose to see Chloe covering her mouth in worry. He flashed her a reassuring smile and waved his helmet. 

He hustled back to starting and set out to give the practice of his life.

  


  


"Damn, Belle, are you trying to kill me?" Shawn comically hopped around on his good foot. 

"I said, I was sorry. Who knew a hammer was so heavy? And greasy," disgusted, Belle wiped her hands on her work jeans, "Next time, get it yourself." 

"Belle, I asked you for a normal hammer, not a sledgehammer. Lucky for me, I didn't ask for a power-saw or something. Jesus, I think, you crushed my big toe." Shawn sat on an old tree stump and gingerly pulled off his work-boot. This little piggy was throbbing, but could still move. "Thank God. Note to self: Belle, hammer, no-no." 

She gave an unladylike snort, hiding her grin. 

The sun was setting and three sections still needed drywall. Mimi's central plumbing, roof, and siding were done. Now, the carpentry team concentrated their efforts on the interior. Electricians handled wiring, heating/cooling, and lighting. The volunteers were left in charge of less fatal responsibilities, or so Shawn had thought, rubbing his abused toe. After putting his boot back on, he and another boy carried the measured drywall into the house and fitted it into a slot on the ceiling. 

"Oh, shit!" exclaimed the sweaty pair in terror, as Belle approached with a power drill. 

"Now, Belle..." warned Shawn. 

"Chill, tough boy, this is the fun part," she answered with a wicked gleam in her eyes. 

Shawn yelped, when the drill tip came within millimeters to his pinky. After the ceiling was in place, he had to admit, Belle had finally found her specialty on the worksite. 

"Not bad for a girl," said Shawn, taking the sharp jab to his ribs in stride, "At this pace, Mimi's family will move in within the month. Chloe should be ecstatic with that news." 

"I dunno, they were getting along alright last night. Maybe they might even miss each other, when Mimi moves out..." His doubtful brown eyes met her hopeful blue. 

"Nahhh," resounded the pair, laughing. 

They heard a door slam in another part of the house and realized how quiet it had become. They were alone. 

After a quick glance at his dusty watch, Shawn gaped, "Crap, it's almost seven o'clock. We'd better clean up and get out of here." He hurriedly picked up random items off the floor and threw them in the toolbox. As he leaned down, his jeans pulled taunt across his butt. 

Belle caught herself sighing and shook herself out of her trance. Embarrassed, she quickly grabbed the broom and swept, until the room was enveloped in a dust storm. 

Coughing, Shawn shielded his nose and mouth. "Belle! Chill, we can hardly breathe in here!" He opened a couple of windows, then pulled Belle out of the house to escape. 

Still coughing, Shawn gave her a dry look, "Let me guess. You get weekly maid service." 

She struck out for a playful shove, but smacked his chin instead. 

"Hey!" he exclaimed, falling backward onto the ground. 

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, Shawn," dropping beside him, cradling his dark head on her lap, "I didn't mean to, honest." She stopped short, when he broke out in laughter. 

"Well, I guess, that teaches me to mess with you, Broomhilda." Irritated, she smacked a hand to his chest, making another dust cloud. They both coughed and laughed. 

"Just look at you, Shawn Douglas Brady. Not so tough now," joked Belle. 

"Me? Look at you..." And he did. Under layers of plaster dust and smudges of spackle, her bright blue eyes shimmered in humor. Before he could think, his hand caught her cheek, as those eyes blinked in confusion. 

"Shawn--" 

"Yeah, look at you," he murmured, as he cupped her neck until her lips hovered over his. 

"Hey, guys! Where'd you go?" 

They instantly scrambled apart, just as an exhausted Mimi came from behind the house. 

"There you are. I'm starved. Wanna go for burgers?" 

His lips still tingling, Shawn watched, as Belle looked anywhere but him. Finally, he drummed up a smile. "You read my mind, Mimi."

  


  


Chloe sat patiently, watching the players, one-by-one, walk out from the school's double-doors. More than a few sent a lascivious ogle and wink her way, but none dared to trespass on Kiriakis territory. 

Chloe rolled her eyes behind her new glasses. What made boys such morons after a primitive and pointless activity? But then there were highpoints to football, admitted Chloe, remembering Philip in tights. As if on cue, he appeared from behind those double-doors. Hair still dripping from a hasty shower, Philip ran a hand through it, before he zipped up his letterman jacket to ward off the evening chill. When he spotted her, waiting across the street, his dimples flashed. He quickly crossed to her and pulled her into a hot kiss. 

Gripping his arms for balance, Chloe reevaluated her thoughts on football. 

"Hi," murmured a breathless Chloe. 

"Hi, beautiful. Thanks for waiting. Hungry?" 

"I know you must be, putting in the practice you did today." 

"Well," he said, his arms circling her waist, "Let's just say, I was really pumped today, since a particular brunette was in the audience." 

"Hmm, I wonder who that could be..." Chloe felt his lips curve against hers. 

"So, no choir practice today?" They settled into a comfortable walk toward the Brady Pub. 

"Rehearsal, Monsieur Jock," corrected Chloe, "No. The director has the flu and has quarantined herself for the sake of our young voice boxes." 

"Well, that's very considerate of her. In the meantime, does that mean I have a captive audience at practice tomorrow?" grinned Philip. 

"No," laughed Chloe, when his face dropped into a puppy dog pout, "Don't give me that look. Merlin is much more convincing." 

"I can't believe it. I'm being upstaged by a mutt." 

She gave him a reassuring peck on the cheek. "I should help with the Lockhart house tomorrow, but you never know. I just might drop by to say hello to Salem's all-county quarterback." 

"Hey, Phil! Wait up!" Philip and Chloe turned toward the sound of steps running up behind them. 

Jason and Chloe exchanged acknowledging nods. 

  


  


Finally, they reached the Pub to find Shawn, Belle, and Mimi, recently showered and scrubbed, there. 

"Hey, you guys!" Belle waved them over. "Come sit." 

A thoughtful waitress brought extra chairs. After they all ordered, they settled in to chat about the day. Conveniently, Philip and Chloe monopolized one side of the booth, while Shawn and Belle sat on the other side. This left Mimi and Jason together in the extra chairs. The girls looked over the situation and grinned to each other. 

"What's the secret?" Philip whispered in Chloe's ear. 

She simply smiled and linked her fingers with his under the table. 

"Mimi's house looks better and better everyday. We&'ll probably be done before the month's out," estimated Shawn, guzzling down his soda. 

Belle still kept her distance on the other side of the seat. Considering what happened or almost happened, he should say, at the worksite, Shawn wondered what she was thinking. 

I wonder what he's thinking, Belle thought. She plastered a smile to her face, while she turned the night's events over in her mind. She'd had a crush on Shawn Brady since mid-sophomore year, but he'd never treated her more than like a sisterly nuisance. Until tonight. 

Did it all really happen? 

Belle watched, as Philip occasionally whispered something to Chloe, making her laugh. Then, they exchanged a look that could have said a thousand words. 

How she envied Chloe. It was easier for Philip and Chloe, Belle figured, since they had really gotten to know each other only a couple of months ago. Belle took a glance at Shawn, who was raving about some baseball series to Jason. His smile blazing and eyes sparkling. She inwardly sighed. She had known Shawn D. all her life and was completely lost on how to turn friendship into something more. 

"...I'm lucky to be alive. Belle here came at me with a sledgehammer." 

Belle snapped out of her thoughts. "It was a total accident! Is it my fault your foot happened to be in the way?" She smacked his shoulder. 

Their companions only rolled their eyes and exchanged confirming looks. Denial. In the dictionary, Shawn Brady and Belle Black's mug shots were printed next to that word's definition. 

"So, is everyone going to the big party Friday?" Jason asked. 

"What party?" Mimi kept her eyes to her glass, pushing ice around with a straw. 

"We met some hot-looking chicks Sunday and they invited us to a party." Jason didn't notice, as Mimi's shoulders drooped a bit. Chloe and Belle wanted to give Jason a good swift kick under the table, but he continued. "Yeah, those awesome legs said, they've got an indoor heated pool. Gonna be great! Bikinis in November. Ow!" Startled, he reached under the table to rub his shins. 

Chloe and Belle angelically peered at the ceiling. They would've whistled, if it were prudent. Mimi sighed into her drink. 

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

   [1]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/mystories



	4. 4

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

Chapter 4  


  


"So, what was that all about?" 

"Whatever do you mean?" Chloe batted her eyes in syrupy innocence. 

Stopping at the crosswalk, Philip turned with a skeptical Kiriakis brow arched. "You and Belle playing footsie with Jason." 

Chloe took sudden interest in a mailbox. 

"Chloe…" 

"Philip…" 

"What are you and Belle conspiring?" 

"Philip Kiriakis, you're awfully paranoid." Attempting to distract him, she ran her hands up his chest, linking her fingers behind his neck. "Have I mentioned how handsome you look in your jacket?" 

"I know a play, when I hear one," said Philip, inwardly pleased that Chloe felt so easy with him. He rested his hands on her waist. "So, what's up?" 

"Nothing." Her try at pouting failed miserably. "How do you know my knee didn't spontaneously react in reflex?" 

"And Belle 'spontaneously' reacted with you? Something's definitely fishy, and it ain't the pier." 

Now, she did pout. "I'm sworn to secrecy. It's need-to-know and you don't need to know." 

"Oh, yeah?" Hands conveniently in place, he took a firm grip and tickled her. "This'll teach you to keep secrets from your boyfriend." 

She gave a helpless shriek, giggling uncontrollably. "Do your worst, Kiriakis!" She broke from his grasp and ran along the street, her words broken by laughter. "I'll never tell!" 

"We'll just see about that." With a wicked grin, he overtook and effortlessly tossed her over his shoulder. 

Still laughing, she tried to put up a believable fight, beating his back, kicking her feet. "Put me down, you brute! You're not Tarzan. Me not Jane!" 

Philip grunted, "Me with Chloe climb Chloe tree, go in Chloe room. Then, Philip have way with Chloe." 

Chloe only laughed harder. "Try it, ape-boy, and Craig'll get out his scalpel." 

He grimaced at the image. Nevertheless, he trotted happily with his catch down the street to her house. Puzzled passersby chuckled at young love. Philip and Chloe finally reached the Wesley walkway. Unwilling to risk his anatomy, he set her on her feet but kept firm grip of her waist. 

"Spill it." 

Still breathless but resolute, she smiled. "No." 

He rolled his eyes and gave a dramatic sigh. "Well, I'm gonna have to warn my old buddy Jase what's coming. It's only fair." 

Smoothing his jacket shoulders, she appreciated his broad frame. "It's not that bad. He'll thank us later for-" Chloe gasped and covered her mouth before she blurted out anymore. But it was too late. 

"You're hooking him up!" His blue eyes glistened. "But with who?" 

Her hands shielded her face in fear of providing other clues. He pinched the bridge of his nose, racking his brain for potential candidates. Philip thought back to the Pub before the sudden motion under the table and Jason's yelp. The party. The legs. Bikinis. He was stumped. Telling himself he owed it to his old buddy, Philip gently led her reluctant arms around his neck. 

"Come on, Chloe…" giving his Oscar-worthy puppy dog pout, "I thought we could trust each other with anything…" slipping his arms around her waist, skimming his lips along her shoulder, then neck. She shivered, when he brushed his lips across her ear, her cheek, her eyes, nose, mouth. As Chloe melted against him, thoughts of Jason's welfare flew out the window. The kiss intensified, while his hands pressed her closer to him. 

Coming up for air, he rested his forehead on hers. 

A low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. 

"I guess, you'd better go in before we get soaked," he said, making no move to leave. 

"Yeah, I guess, I should." His eyes shimmered a mesmerizing shade of blue. He was speechless, as her fingers traced the contours of his face. Then, she drew him into her embrace. She squeezed her eyes shut and held on. What she wouldn't give to stay in this moment forever. How long she'd waited to belong. 

The first fat raindrops plopped loudly against the pavement. 

Covering them both under his jacket, he hurried her to the porch. 

Chloe took hold of his jacket. "Wait, I'll get Craig to drive you home." 

"You mean, Craig with the scalpel?" He grinned. "That's ok." Before she could argue, he pulled her into a long kiss, fuzzying her brain. "Night, beautiful." With that, he darted out in the oncoming downpour and raced for home. 

  


  


"A-Ah-aachoo!" Philip rubbed his sleeve across his nose. 

The girl in the next desk handed him a kleenex and a wink. Oblivious, the teacher explained calculus derivative formulas to the chalkboard. Feeling his nose itch again, Philip gratefully snatched the tissue and sneezed into it. He blinked, when someone tapped his shoulder from behind. 

"Are you ok?" whispered Belle. 

He gave her a bleary-eyed nod. 

The students nearly cheered, when the bell sounded lunchtime. The teacher shouted the day's homework assignment to the blackboard, while the students ran for the door. 

"Gee, Philip, you don't look so good. Are you sick?" asked Belle, as she gathered her books. 

"I'll be ok. I got caught in the rain last night and didn't drink what Henderson tried to pour down my throat." 

"Well, I think you'd better take it easy. Big game's next week." 

"I'll be ok. A couple of aspirin and I'll be fine." 

"Boys," said Belle, shaking her head in pity, "Macho to the end." 

They joined the hallway rush to the cafeteria. 

They came upon Shawn's locker, where he was laughing with Mimi and a leggy red head. When the girl ran a teasing finger down his bicep, Belle's vision tinged green. The girl flashed him a come-hither smile before leaving with friends. 

"Hey, guys," greeted Philip with a congested sniff. 

"Hey, Phil. You sick?" asked Shawn, after another sneeze. 

"Naw, man. Who was that?" 

"That was Amanda," answered Mimi, "She was trying to recruit us for Drama Club." 

"She was trying to recruit something," muttered Belle under her breath. 

"We'd better get some grub, while the getting's good," suggested clueless Shawn, as they reached the cafeteria. "Where's Chloe?" 

"There she is." Philip gestured to their usual table in the corner. He watched, as she politely shook her head and returned to her book, when a brave boy tried to sit with her. Ever since the Last Blast, the boys of Salem High took a new look at Chloe Lane, but Chloe was unaccustomed to such attention. So, she decided to hardly pay any mind to it. Engrossed in her new book, she paused now and again for her baked potato and soup. 

Sneaking up behind her, Philip covered her eyes. "Guess who?" 

"Hmmm," grinned Chloe, "Tarzan?" 

Before he could chuckle, he turned his head to sneeze. 

She took hold of his cold hands and turned around in concern. "Philip, are you sick?" 

"Naw, babe, just a sniffle," shrugged Philip, as manly as he could. "Nothing a kiss can't cure." 

She pulled him down to the seat and felt his forehead. With a satisfactory nod, she kissed the bridge of his nose. "I shouldn't have let you go out in that rain. I'll be right back." She returned with a steaming cup of tea. "You'd better drink this, because I assume that you're going to practice anyway." 

Touched, he threw an arm around her shoulders and sipped his tea. 

"Shut up, Shawn," muttered an irritated Belle, settling in beside Chloe. 

"Seriously, we could take your hair fly-fishing sometime. That twist right there looks just like my dragonfly lure," grinned Shawn, as he set down his heavy tray with his and Philip's lunches across from Belle. 

"I'm so not in the mood, Shawn Douglas." She fixed her gaze on a pole and chomped on her chicken finger. 

Watching the whole scene, Mimi shook her head and sat across from Philip. She wondered how boys could be so dense. At the sound of a hearty male chuckle from two tables down, she turned to see Jason laugh, as his teammates blew straw wrappers at each other. Speaking of dense, thought Mimi, as she sighed. She turned to find Chloe studying her. Then, Chloe lifted her chin in Jason's direction, as if suggesting her to approach him. Mimi jerked her head in the resounding negative and went back to her lunch. 

It was so easy for Ghoul Girl now that she was popular and hooked one of the hottest guys at school. Ever since the Last Blast, guys virtually fell at her feet. Not so for homeless Mimi. The reason people still spoke to her was because she was Belle Black's best friend. She stole another glance at Jason. He didn't even know she existed. Why would he? 

"So, you guys going to the party Friday?" asked Shawn, while he inhaled his food. 

"Sounds cool to me, especially if bikinis are involved." Philip wiggled his eyebrows at Chloe. 

She gave his cheek a playful shove. "You're hopeless." 

"Indoor pool party sounds like a blast to me," said Mimi, as nonchalantly as she could. "What do you say, Belle?" 

"Sure. Why not?" She gave Mimi a bubbly smile, fighting off her heavy mood. "You're in, too. Right, Chloe?" 

"I don't know…" Her boyfriend gave her an imploring puppy dog pout. "I guess I could. Bikini optional," she said, before Philip could flash his triumphant dimples. 

  


  


"I don't even own a bikini," sighed Chloe later, as she swept, while Habitat workers called it a day and headed home. Certainly, she'd fantasized wearing one, she thought, remembering a vision of Philip chasing her along the beach. But reality was a totally different matter. 

"Well, girlfriend, you know what that means." Belle practically rubbed her hands together. 

"That I get to stay home?" 

"No way. Can't let Philip's drool go to waste. Shopping spree! We'll definitely get a good deal this time of year." 

"Yeah, if we can find any left, much less ones that fit and look decent." 

"Think positive, Chloe Lane. We're not going to rest, until you have a bikini!" 

Chloe shook her head in amazement. How could such a small person contain so much energy? 

"There," huffed a dusty Mimi, as she set the toolbox in the cabinet. She smoothed the bandanna on her head. "My folks already left with the other grown-ups for dinner. I say, let's eat." 

"Totally. I've got a craving for pizza," said Belle, rubbing her tummy. 

"Sounds good. Make mine a veggie lovers." 

"Big surprise." Mimi rolled her eyes in sarcasm. 

They dusted off as best they could and headed for the pizzeria. A buff waiter served their personal pizzas with a breathtaking smile. 

"I love coming here," sighed Belle, as the waiter's tush disappeared behind the swinging doors. 

Chloe cut into a slice with a dainty fork and knife, while Belle and Mimi devoured their slices from cheesy tip to savory crust. 

"So, Mimi," Belle said between bites, "You ready for Friday night?" 

"Yeah, I guess." 

"You guess?" Belle emphasized with her cheese-dripping slice. "You're not going to get Jason's attention with that attitude." 

"Who says I want to? He's got the 'chick with the legs,' remember?" 

"Oh, that was just boy talk. Besides, once he sees you poolside, that chick will be history." 

"Great. He'll want me for my body. What a way to start a relationship." 

"Oh, Mimi." Belle threw her hands up in frustration. Her eyes pleaded to Chloe for help. 

Chloe sighed. "Well, we're still animals and animals have always depended on looks to spark initial interest. It's after that initial spark that makes us human." 

Belle grinned ear to ear. "In other words, Mimi, if you got it, flaunt it, and let the sparks fly." The girls broke out in laughter. Belle laid a warm hand on Mimi's. "He knows you already, Mimi, not some legs chick. And if he's too slow to appreciate you, who knows? There's gonna be some new shirtless prospects." 

Mimi met two pairs of encouraging eyes and smiled. "Yeah, who knows what might happen?" 

  


  


Chloe found herself at the pier an hour later, after Belle and Mimi headed to .Com for CDs. For some reason, she wanted to be alone and think. She still wasn't used to the constant presence of others, friend or foe. Sometimes, Chloe thought, as she let her feet dangle over the water, most comfortable was her own company. 

Fog crept over the Salem waterfront, as twilight passed. Ship bells tolled in greeting off in the murky distance. Philip always discouraged her from coming here alone, but Chloe had learned early how to take care of herself and wasn't worried. She smiled in memory of that rainy night, when he threw her over his shoulder and carried her home. How they'd laughed. How they'd kissed. Chloe closed her eyes to the evening breeze. A hum turned into a song, as her heart soared with Madame Butterfly and her tragic love. 

A dark figure soundlessly climbed down from the upper deck and sat himself on a castaway crate to listen. He'd come to escape from the havoc at home. His father and stepmother were fighting again - about him. Now that he was a college dropout, his self-righteous stepmother had all the ammunition she needed to prove that he was good for nothing. She wanted him out of their picture perfect family. Meanwhile, his clueless father tried to defend his messed-up son while worshipping his wife - his true love. Brady almost laughed. His poor mother never had a chance. If only she had lived, maybe then… He caught himself, before the tears could come. Screw them, he spat. Screw them all. 

When he ran the back of his hand across his eyes and found them damp, Brady told himself that the mystery diva certainly had a voice. "Madame Butterfly." Romantic and tragic. He always thought one could not have one quality without the other. His buddies back at Salem U. would rib him for decades, if they knew he listened to opera. He shrugged. He loved music. It was as simple as that. When he couldn't vent his anger and hurt in words or in sports, he could blast his music and let the sound waves cry for him. So, he closed his eyes and hoped the music would overcome the pain. 

Chloe felt the last note glide over her throat. Taking a deep breath of salty air, she felt her soul soar, as it always did after the final note. She jumped, when someone applauded behind her. Scrambling to her feet, she faced a long-faced boy with eyes, blue and intense. 

"Bravo, Signorina," spoke the stranger in black. 

Chloe tucked fluttering strands of hair behind her ear. "Thank you. I didn't realize anyone was listening." 

"I always thought she was too good for him," said Brady, referring to the opera's ill-fated lovers. 

"'It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.' Isn't that how the saying goes?" Chloe considered the surprising comment with the heavy leather jacket, standoffish demeanor, and tortured eyes. And was intrigued. 

"Yeah, and I always thought it was a bunch of crock." Landing casually on his feet, he expanded his prowl to the dock's edge. "The chick would've saved herself a lot of tears, if she'd kept a safe distance." 

Her brows drew together, when his words struck a chord. "She took a chance and suffered in the end. But maybe the happiness was worth the risk for the time she had it." 

"And maybe it wasn't. In the end, he still let her down. She still got burned. Cut lights. Curtain. Exeunt." Brady bent to pick up a flat stone and sent it into the restless waves. 

She watched the stone disappear, swallowed by the dark. Then, she turned to study him, as he looked out into the fog, lost in his own thoughts. Without a word, she climbed to the upper deck and headed toward home. She looked back once to see him still gazing out to sea, alone. 

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

   [1]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/mystories



	5. 5

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

Chapter 5  


  


"Hey, beautiful." 

Chloe rubbed her drowsy eyes and saw that her bedside clock read 10:49PM. "Philip?" 

"Did I wake you?" 

"Yeah, I decided to turn in early tonight." With the phone resting between her ear and shoulder, she sat up in bed to put on her glasses. Her chilled hand ran through her hair. 

"Was there a lot to do at Mimi's today?" Chloe heard him toss a ball back and forth, as he often did, when he called her. 

"Yeah, I guess." And suddenly, she found her mind blank. Panicked, she felt a moment of silence. "How are you-how's that sniffle?" she blurted. 

"Oh, I'm alright now. Henderson fed me some concoction and made me gargle orange juice. I almost choked, but I'm feeling fine now." When she said nothing, no sexy laugh or inquisitive remark, he asked, "Chloe, is everything alright?" 

Her eyes filled unexpectedly. "Yeah, I'm just tired, I guess." She closed her eyes and wondered what the hell was wrong with her. "Um, could we talk tomorrow, Philip? I'm really sleepy." 

"Uh, sure. Get some rest, alright?" 

"Good night, Philip." 

"Night, beautiful." 

Uneasiness seeped into her heart, as she set the phone down. Her fingers bumped into her glasses, when she tried to wipe away the tears. She pulled her glasses off to study them. 

_The chick would've saved herself a lot of tears, if she'd kept a safe distance._

She had the sudden urge to fling her glasses against the wall. Instead, she set them back on her nightstand. She sunk under her covers and hugged a pillow to her. 

_In the end, he still let her down. She still got burned._

She forced her eyes shut and prayed for sleep. 

  


  


She felt his strong arms and warmth engulf her. She sighed into his smooth neck, as he rained feather-light kisses on her cheek, ear, and neck. His fingertips ran from hip to waist to rib, as she realized she was naked against him. One part of her wanted to pull away and run for cover, but the other clung to him, exhilarated in the freedom. She lifted her lips to him for a kiss. 

Suddenly, the murky water closed in around her. Alone in deafening silence, she struggled for air, uncertain without the sunlight to guide her to the surface. She clawed and clawed in vain. The water only grew darker and thicker. Her muscles cried in exhaustion, as doom sunk into her soul. 

Somewhere Philip called out for her. 

A searing pair of blue eyes was the last thing she saw, as she sunk endlessly into the abyss. 

  


  


Gasping for air, Chloe awoke, clawing the sheets. Her hands trembled violently, as she reached for the bedside lamp. She drew her knees to her chest and hugged herself into a ball. And sobbed and sobbed. 

  


  


"Hey, have you seen Chloe today?" asked Philip, after bumping into Shawn in the lunch line. 

"Aw, man, processed fish sticks. Grandpa would have some ugly Irish names for those." Shawn shook his head in disgust. "What? Oh, yeah, Chloe. Naw, man. Didn't you see her at her locker this morning? Like every morning," grinned Shawn. 

But his friend was without the usual Kiriakis retort. Philip's eyes scoured the cafeteria, ending at their table in the corner. Belle was chatting cheerfully with a classmate, while Mimi looked on with some envy. But no Chloe. 

Shawn laid a brotherly hand on his shoulder, interrupting Philip's thoughts. "Hey, is everything alright? Cuz you're obsessing, man." 

Philip's brows drew together. Maybe he was. Most guys, observed Philip, as Jason flirted with some buxom cheerleader, took dating in stride. Guys figured, they were young and had plenty of time to play the field. Girls, on the other hand, were the ones, who analyzed, reanalyzed, and overanalyzed dating. Females pondered the meaning of every smile, look, and stray hair particle, while typical males said, "what the hell," and took life and girls as they came. As the crown prince of Salem High, Philip certainly did. Before Chloe. 

He averted Shawn's inquiring eyes by turning to buy his lunch. He couldn't explain to Shawn, to any guy, first, his genuine and deep feelings for Chloe, and now… a frightening tingle in the back of his neck. He ran a nervous hand over it, as he made his way toward their table. At first, like any male, he'd tried to shrug it off. That day in the park when she suddenly pulled away and cried with no explanation, he'd felt it. That tearful phone call in the middle of the night. Again, no explanation, and again, he'd tried to shrug it off. He'd been so proud of himself for comforting her. He'd been her protector and fought off the tears with playful machismo. But last night… 

She hadn't wanted to talk to him. 

Completely uninterested in the offensive fish sticks, he jabbed at the ice in his drink. Under normal circumstances, he could almost laugh at himself. After he'd hung up last night, tossing his football around, it dawned on him. She hadn't wanted to talk to him. He'd tried to shrug it off, called himself whipped for overanalyzing. Chloe was just tired, that's all. The more he fought to push the thought aside, the more the conversation haunted him. 

_"Hey, beautiful." _

"Philip?" 

"Did I wake you?" 

"…Yeah, I decided to turn in early tonight…H-how are you-how's that sniffle?" 

"Oh, I'm alright now…Chloe, is everything alright?" 

"…Yeah, I'm just tired, I guess…Um, could we talk tomorrow, Philip? I'm really sleepy…" 

She'd brushed him off. Like Ghoul Girl did to Philip the Jerk. 

Then, this morning she hadn't met him at her locker, like she always did. 

_"Maybe, you're wasting your time with me, Philip."_

Philip shook his head. Get a grip, Kiriakis. Now, you're obsessing. He deliberately directed his thoughts to that first kiss. On her front porch, under the stars. He'd always thought Chloe mysterious with fathoms of intoxicating depth. But somehow she radiated in moonlight. At the Last Blast, even beneath that lilymonster cloak, her enchantress eyes glowed. Then, while she dazed him with those eyes and that body, she could cite the stats of every worthwhile pro baseball team. She could sing with such passion that left his own opera-illiterate ears awestruck. To her, Multivariable Calculus was slick and easy like water off a duck's back; for him, x and y were abused and misunderstood alphabets. But somehow, something in Chloe Lane clicked blissfully with Philip Kiriakis. He confided in her in a way that he never had with anyone else. He wanted her in a way that humbled him - him, son of the most powerful man in Salem. 

They'd come so far from when she first came to Salem, and most of time, being with Chloe made him happier than he's ever been. But still he felt it - that chilly premonition that crept from behind. If his father taught him anything, a Kiriakis never took a thing for granted, because regardless of accumulated fortunes, complacence only made the fall that much more debilitating. 

The mention of Chloe's name brought him out of his ponderings. 

"What about Chloe?" asked Philip belatedly. 

Belle smirked. "Why, Philip, I'm glad you've rejoined the world of the living. I was saying that Friday's going to be Chloe's big swimwear debut. We'll shop 'til we drop, until we find something that'll top the Last Blast." 

"That'll send him into cardiac arrest," joked Shawn. 

"You're going to see Chloe today, Belle?" asked an intense Philip. 

"Yeah, we're meeting at Salem Place after school, before going over to Mimi's house." 

"Can I tag along?" 

The table turned utterly silent. 

Shawn resisted smacking his forehead in male horror. "Oh, boy." 

"You want to go shopping with Belle and Chloe?" asked a confused Mimi. 

"Yeah," Philip managed a nonchalant shrug, "Why not? You might need a guy's opinion, right?" 

"Oh, I get it," grinned Shawn, throwing a conspiring arm around his buddy's shoulders, "You just wanna help Chloe, no matter how many bikinis she has to model in front of you." 

Mimi rolled her eyes. Belle giggled. 

As he stole a look at Belle, Shawn couldn't believe that he hadn't thought of it himself. 

"Well, I just happen to need to pick up some stuff from Salem Place." After all, one could never have enough batteries, Shawn decided. "Why don't I meet you guys there?" 

Belle shook her head in bewilderment. "Sure, let's make a party of it. Mimi, wanna come?" 

Mimi considered an afternoon of watching two boys drool over Belle and Chloe. And thought better of it. "Um, I don't think so. I've got a monster paper due next week and need to do some serious reading." 

  


  


At Salem Place, Chloe waited patiently on a bench. The biting chill warned of early snow. Despite the frigid weather, the outdoor shopping center enjoyed a steady stream of patrons, bundled in fleece, leather, and wool. With a steaming cup of cocoa, hand-knitted scarf, and powder blue earmuffs, Chloe enjoyed a sunny winter day in Salem. She sat before the mosaic Salem Place fountain, which had been drained for the coming winter. After nearly a year, she experienced all of Salem's seasons and knew virtually every street and turn. Salem had become her home. 

She watched for her friend and prepared for a dizzying afternoon of shopping - at warp Belle. Chloe smiled. It never failed to amaze her to finally have close friends to spend time with. To have a boyfriend to… 

Suddenly, she felt cold. This time she remembered every detail of her dream. The embracing bliss, before the suffocating terror. A reminder of past behavior and their consequences. 

Why couldn't it all be simple? She watched a young couple huddled over a café table, engaged in intimate conversation. The girl reached over to warm his reddened ears. Then, Chloe turned and saw an elderly couple, fingers interlaced, strolling contently from store window to store window. 

Chloe look down at her own hands. They'd grown long and graceful since childhood. These once chubby hands had scrubbed the floor of an abusive or neglectful foster family. Ever since she could remember, she wished desperately her mother would come for her. She imagined she'd be perfectly kind and beautiful. Her real mommy would tuck her in at night with fairy tales, kiss her hurts, brush her hair, and sneak extra cookies in her lunchbox. Such simple mommy things that she'd seen in books, movies, and mornings at school. But such things were not meant to be and her mother never came. Not until she'd grown old enough to know that fairy tales weren't real and the world was unkind more often than not. She could only depend on herself, because if she couldn't trust her own mother, whom could she trust? Now there was Belle, Shawn, and Philip. Philip. 

Someone tapped her from behind. Assuming the shopping queen had finally arrived, she drummed up a welcoming smile, but turned to face a searing pair of blue eyes. 

"We meet again, Signorina." 

Speechless, she rose, unsure of what to do. 

Used to being treated with suspicion, Brady took a seat on the bench. He figured that she'd be less intimidated, if he were smaller. "Chill, ok? I just wanted to say the Puccini on the pier was nice." 

Chloe tilted her head, baffled. "You're a very strange person." 

"Because I like opera or because I'm not a serial killer?" 

Chloe tilted her head again, now in scrutiny. "Because you know opera and because you look like a serial killer." 

To Chloe's astonishment, he laughed. In that instant, the sullen, world-weary man transformed into a dazzling, engaging boy. 

  


  


Belle arrived to find Shawn and Philip before a computer store window, lusting after the newest video games. Boys, she sighed. 

"Hi, guys. I guess, we know what you'll be doing for the rest of the afternoon." Belle gestured to the latest game system on display, which already had eager kids playing to save the universe. She assumed that video game addicts, like Shawn and Philip, couldn't resist a match. "I've got to meet Chloe, so you guys have fun." 

"Wait, I'm tagging along remember?" reminded Philip. 

"Well, I bow to peer pressure. I'm coming, too," grinned Shawn. 

Shaking her head at their bizarre behavior, she headed with the boys in tow to meet Chloe. They spotted her standing near the fountain. Philip nearly stopped in tracks, when he saw that she was talking with a blond guy in leather. The guy laughed at something she'd said and she let a trace of a smile bloom into a soft laugh. Something churned in his gut, but he didn't recognize it as jealousy. 

"Hey, who's that guy Chloe's talking to?" asked Shawn cautiously, ready to hold back the signature Kiriakis temper from making a fool of himself. 

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

   [1]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/mystories



	6. 6

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

Chapter 6  


  


"Chloe!" Belle waved to her friend. As the three approached Chloe and her companion, Brady turned with a wide grin. 

"What's up, munchkin?" greeted a glowing Brady. 

"Brady!" Belle ran and hugged her big brother. "What are you doing here?" 

"Just hanging and checking out some music." 

"Hey, watch the hair!" admonished Belle, when he playfully ruffled her blond locks. 

Brady only smiled. Where there was Belle, there was sunlight. 

"Hey, man," greeted Shawn, as the boys exchanged grunts and punches. 

"Hey, Phil," smirked Brady, "How's Grandpa Vic?" 

"Taking over Japan or something, so he's doing alright." Philip casually walked to Chloe and kissed her cheek. "Hey." 

She gave a hesitant smile, nearly blushing. Then, he turned back to the group while setting a possessive arm around her. 

Belle gave her brother a playful shove. "You didn't tell me you knew Chloe." 

"Chloe. Actually we just met, didn't we?" announced Brady, turning to Chloe. 

Chloe blinked. "Uh, yeah. I didn't realize that you were Belle's brother." 

And Brady hadn't realized this was the infamous Chloe. He watched, as Philip raised his chin another notch. So, this was the chick that had Uncle Phil all tied in knots. Who could blame him, thought Brady, after a perusal of her body. 

"Well, little sister, what are you up to?" asked Brady, turning back to his sister. "Or do Dad's credit cards already know?" 

"For your information, loser, I'm meeting Chloe here to shop for a party on Friday." 

"Ah, the chick with the legs pool party." 

"Yeah, how'd you know?" 

"Because me and Jason are the ones that got those invites. You guys are just tagging along." 

Belle set her hands on her defiant hips. "Aren't you a little too old to be playing with high school girls?" 

"You know what they say, Belle. Age ain't nothing but a number." He laughed, when she smacked his shoulder. 

"Well, Chloe and I need to get going. We've only got a couple of hours, before we head over to Mimi's," said Belle, as she hooked her arm with Chloe's. "So, we'll see you guys later." 

"Me and Phil are coming, too. Remember, Belle?" grinned Shawn. 

"What?" laughed Brady. Then, he saw the way Shawn looked at his sister. But even doting brotherly love couldn't rope him into girl shopping. He'd have to have a little talk with Romeo later. "Well, I'm gonna check out some CDs. I'll see you _ladies_ later." With that, he headed for the music store. 

"Come on, girlfriend. We've got some serious shopping to do," announced Belle, as she pulled Chloe toward Barron's. 

Shawn and Philip sighed, "Women." They shrugged and followed the girls into the department store. 

  


  


An hour later, the two exhausted boys sprawled on plush chairs outside the ladies' dressing room. They'd all followed Belle from rack to rack as she oo-ed and ah-ed, selected and discarded items. The teeny handful grew to a laughable two-armed mound, which in the end the boys were relegated to bear. Although the guys gave the token grumbles and eye rolls, their blood pressures spiked, particularly when Belle held out a string bikini with enough material for an eye patch. The girls giggled, while the boys concentrated on their shoes to keep the imagination in check. Finally, they finished their rummage through the out-of-season clearance racks and headed for dressing room. The girls disappeared behind the panels, while the boys collapsed on seats, sympathetic to nature's hunters out of their element. 

"You still alive over there, Phil?" 

Philip laid a weary hand over his eyes. "Comatose, maybe, but alive. You?" 

"Hanging on by a thread. Man, for such a small person, she's sure got energy." 

"Dude, at least she didn't have to read every label for material and care instructions. Thank God, Chloe's a fast reader." 

"Whatever, man. Your eyes were as big as saucers, when she dangled that red number in front of you." 

"Like your tongue wasn't on your shoes, when Belle held up the thong." 

"Yeah… I mean, whatever, man," stuttered Shawn. 

Philip chuckled. Nothing like ribbing on his buddy to lighten the mood. 

When familiar giggles came from the ladies room, Philip smiled. Chloe was happy today. Even though she'd dropped the dark, baggy clothes and impenetrable antisocial wall, she rarely exuded complete ease. Age-old defenses were still up and she was still learning how to be with friends. With him. 

His lighthearted mood soured. Philip restlessly rose to pace in front of the dressing room entrance. He needed to talk to her. If he could just make her see, how much he really cared for her, that she could depend on him, then maybe everything would be alright. He ran his nervous hands through his hair. Why couldn't it all be simple? 

Philip watched, as the Barron's saleslady left her post, when a customer summoned from the designer racks. Shawn was nearly unconscious, his head dangling off the back of the chair. Tiptoeing toward the dressing room, Philip stealthily looked from side to side to make sure the coast was clear. Then, he took a wary step into forbidden territory, waiting for a panicked scream. When none came, he took a couple more steps to find a line of stalls with bare feet stepping in and out of clothes. More cautious than turned on, he searched the line of feet for surrounding swimwear. Unfortunately, three stalls at opposite ends of the room had bikinis and suits. Clearing his throat, he did his best imitation of a high-pitched girly voice, "Chloe?" 

A familiar voice answered from the far side of the room. "Belle, I don't know about this." He cautiously walked toward the stall, as she talked. "I'm more out of it than in it. What do you think?" Then, the stall door opened and out came voluptuous Chloe, inspecting herself in a sea blue string bikini. Philip almost fainted. 

"Well, Belle, what do you think?" asked Chloe, as she looked up. Her eyes widened in shock at the sight of her boyfriend in a ladies' dressing room staring at her scantily clad body. Before she could scream, Philip pulled his senses together. He quickly covered her mouth, dragged her back into her stall, and closed the door. 

"Shhh, you start screaming and some hysterical women are gonna lynch me," whispered Philip with Chloe on his lap. When she nodded, he slowly removed his hand from her mouth. 

"Philip! What are you doing in here?" asked Chloe in a harsh whisper. She tried her best to cover herself, but she only blushed to her roots, when he grinned in male appreciation. 

"I need to talk to you, but I'll tell you right now that you're not wearing this to the party." 

Confused, she looked about and found her shirt farther away than virtuously possible. "What? It looks bad?" She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. 

"Um, no," answered Philip, trying his best to keep his eyes and hands from straying. Having his barely dressed girlfriend in his lap wasn't helping his dignity either. "I just figure, I'd have to beat up way too many guys for coming onto my girl. How about that one-piece Speedo?" 

She almost pouted. "What? That one makes me look like an old frump." When he grinned in approval, his motives became clear. And her heart did a slow swirl in her chest. Nevertheless, she raised a defiant chin. "Well, Philip Kiriakis, I like this one and I'm wearing it to the party and nothing you can say will-" 

He cut her off with a hungry kiss. She felt his strong hands skim her bare back and waist, sending shivers down her spine. He'd never kissed her this way before, so desperately, mindlessly. Then, all thought vanished and she was as enthralled as he. She pulled herself flush against him, yearning for the first time to give herself completely. 

A sudden knock on the stall door startled them. "Chloe, are you in there?" asked Belle. 

Barely containing his laughter, Philip gently wiped her smudged lipstick with his thumb. Then, their eyes met, full of passion and hilarity. 

"Um, yeah, Belle. I'm in here." She rose to open the door, but then realized Philip had nowhere to hide. "Um, wait a sec." She turned, wordlessly asking what to do. With awkward effort, he stood and gave a clueless shrug. Then, he saw that the adjacent stall had no feet. He gave a cocky salute before crawling to the empty stall. 

Chloe cautiously opened her stall door. 

"Wow, Chloe! That looks great on you!" exclaimed Belle. Then she tilted her head. "Hey, are you ok?" 

Chloe nervously smoothed her hair. "Um, yeah. Why do you ask?" 

"You're really flushed. I hope, you're not coming down with anything," said her concerned friend. 

"Um, no. I guess, it's a little hot in here. Hey, that looks great on you!" said Chloe, hoping to distract her. 

Belle did an excited pirouette in the strapless red bikini. "You think? I already have like five at home, but it's so pretty and such a good deal…" She gave Chloe an entreating look. 

Chloe laughed. "I think, it looks perfect. You'll have Shawn drooling like a lovesick puppy." 

"Oh, whatever, Chloe," blushed Belle, "Like I care what Shawn Brady thinks." She took another look in the three-way mirror and slanted Chloe a gleeful smile. "I'm gonna get it. And you should get the one your wearing. It's so much better than that fuddy duddy one-piece." 

A smack to the forehead came from the next stall and Belle turned to look curiously. 

"Um, what time is it, Belle?" asked Chloe. 

"Oh," exclaimed Belle after a look at her watch, "We'd better get going. The boys are probably bored out of their minds and we need to get to Mimi's." Belle hurried to her stall to change. 

Philip peeked out. Chloe waved for him to sneak out. He stole a quick kiss before darting out the dressing room. 

  


  


Shawn and Belle squabbled while tiling the bathroom. In the meantime, Philip worked alongside Chloe, sanding the Lockhart master bedroom. On a ladder, Philip sanded the ceiling, while Chloe stood on the floor, sanding the walls. Each wore protective goggles and masks to ward off the spackle dust. Chloe was known to be one of the most dedicated workers on site, particularly since she had a vested interest in getting the Lockharts into their new home as soon as possible. 

However, no one could have guessed an enthusiastic hard worker could be found in spoiled, rich boy Kiriakis. Originally, he'd joined the project to get closer to Chloe but discovered unexpected rewards in giving his time to helping the less fortunate. He'd been born into the wealthiest family in Salem and could barely imagine a life without limousines and servants, much less food and shelter. Such a plight was not only frightening, but also unimaginable. However, what moved him was the number of people, who were not necessarily financially blessed themselves, but were willing to volunteer their time, in order to make the life of someone else better. Mimi and Philip weren't close, but he'd known her a long time. He took pride in knowing he was making a difference and now appreciated the honor of doing something without selfish motive. 

That didn't mean there weren't perks, as he stole a dusty glance at Chloe's bottom moving up and down with the electric sander against the wall. Remembering her in that blue bikini, he lost grip of the sander, which landed squarely on his head. Disoriented, he fell backward from the ladder to the powdery floor. 

"Oh, my God, Philip!" Chloe turned off her sander and dropped it on the floor. She ran over and cradled his head. "Are you ok?" 

He gave a confused groan. After wiping the dust off her goggles, she saw the reddening bump on his forehead. He hissed in pain, when she touched it. "Does it hurt anywhere else?" 

He laid a gloved hand on his throbbing head. "No, just got the wind knocked out of me. But my head hurts like hell." 

"I'd better get someone," she said, but he grabbed her arm, before she could rush out for help. 

"Chloe, I'm alright, seriously," he said, as she helped him to sitting. 

"I really think we should have a doctor look at you," she said, wiping the dust from his goggles and cheeks. When he shook his head, only to groan in pain again, she compromised. "Ok, come home with me and Craig can take a look at it. Or else I'll knock you out myself and take you to the Emergency Room." 

He relented. She helped him up and took him to a dust-free room and chair to sit. 

"I think, we should definitely call it a day then," suggested Chloe, as she gently removed his goggles and mask. He sighed in agreement. 

"Hey, what happened?" asked Belle, as she and Shawn walked in. 

"Philip fell off the ladder and the sander hit him on the head," said Chloe. 

"Other way around," corrected Philip, holding his throbbing head. 

"Damn, and I thought Belle was bad," said Shawn, earning him a smack in the arm. 

  


  


A fellow Habitat worker dropped the couple off at the Wesley house. Chloe led a weary Philip into the living room and sat him gently on the sofa. 

"Stay awake, ok? I don't think you're supposed to fall asleep." 

"Then, maybe you should put on that bikini for me again. That'll get my attention," joked Philip. 

"You must be ok. You're back to cracking bad jokes." She kissed the tip of his nose and went to find Craig. Chloe and her stepfather returned with his medical bag and with Nancy in tow. 

"Oh, dear, my couch," gasped her mother, when she saw the dusty boy on her prized furniture. Chloe shot her a cold glare. 

"So, what have we here?" asked Craig, as he sat on the coffee table in front of Philip. He inspected the big red bump on his forehead. "Nancy honey, could you get a bag of ice for his head?" His wife hesitated a moment before rushing to the kitchen. "So, Chloe tells me you fell from a ladder and got hit with a sander," said Craig, as he shined a light into Philip's eyes. 

"Other way around," corrected Philip. 

Nancy returned with the ice, to have Chloe place it gently on the bump. 

"Did you hurt anything else in the fall?" asked Craig, as he lifted the boy's shirt to check for other injuries. 

"Maybe you shouldn't be here for this, honey," said Nancy, as she tried to shuffle Chloe from the room. 

Chloe shook her mother off. "Relax, mother. It's not like I've never seen a boy bare-chested before. I need to make sure Philip's alright." She walked closer to the couch and saw Philip wince, when Craig touched his ribs. 

"Well, Mr. Kiriakis," began Craig, as he replaced his tools in the medical bag, "You've got an impressive bump on your head, but no apparent concussion. You've got a couple of bruises on your ribs, but nothing significant. Just take it easy for the next couple of days. That means no strenuous activity tomorrow. If you feel dizzy, nauseous, or faint, see a doctor immediately. You'll probably have a huge headache tomorrow-" 

"How about now," said Philip, as he shifted the ice on his forehead. 

"Well, that was a small but pretty heavy piece of machinery to drop on your head, so it's expected. Take two aspirin for the pain and call me in the morning," smiled Craig. 

  


  


Afterwards, Craig led Nancy out of the room to let Chloe have her privacy. 

"I'm glad you're alright," said Chloe, hesitantly taking his hand in hers. 

He smiled. "Takes more than a bonk on the head to take a Kiriakis out." His thumb ran tenderly over her knuckles. "Thanks for all this," he gestured to the ice bag. She blushed, when he brought her knuckles to his lips. They laughed, when the ice dripped on her hand. 

"So, about that bikini…" 

Chloe rolled her eyes in dramatics. 

"Since I'm not in the best shape to fend off drooling idiots…" 

"Philip…" 

"Why not take pity on the injured…" He grinned, as she cocked an incredulous brow. "And let me buy you that one-piece for Friday?" 

"I am not taking my suit back." 

"I didn't say you had to take the blue one back," he said, with dimples winking. "Actually, I'm kind of partial to it myself." He enjoyed her flustered blush to no end. "That's why you should give it to me." 

Her eyes widened in shock. 

He laughed, despite his headache. "Don't worry. I'm not into women's clothes. Wearing it, anyway. I'm just suggesting I keep it for you for special occasions, like when you come over to my house to swim or whatever." His devilish grin had her laughing. "Come on, Chloe. Heated indoor pool with all the privacy I-I mean-you could want." 

Shaking her head, she took his hand. "Come on, Casanova. I'll introduce you to Merlin." 

"Isn't he that mutt that's trying to steal my girlfriend?" Philip followed Chloe to Craig's home office. When she gave a soft laugh, he recalled her laughing with Brady at Salem Place. Philip hadn't missed how Brady had looked at her. "Yeah, no one messes with my girl and gets away with it." 

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

   [1]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/mystories



	7. If you're gone

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

Chapter 7 - [If you're gone][2]  


  


"So, you're Merlin." Seated practically under Craig's desk, Philip inspected the squirming furball, blindly sniffing the expanse of his human hand. "You're telling me your dog pushed out five of these? Motherhood's rough." 

"That's why it takes a woman," asserted a grinning Chloe. 

"Merlin. What a name. Merl," began Philip, as he raised his hand holding the spotted lump, so that the pup faced him eye to eyelid, "When the Dobermans beat you up everyday after school, you'll know who to blame, won't you?" The puppy yawned in the affirmative. 

"Don't scare my puppy," she admonished. She gently lifted Merlin by the scruff and settled him on her chest, as she laid her head on Philip's lap. As the pup made himself comfortable against one warm rising and falling breast, Philip nearly groaned. Next life, he had to come back as a dog. 

Philip watched Chloe run an adoring finger along the puppy's back, while it snored in euphoria. Definitely, a dog's life was for him, Philip thought. Unconsciously, he twirled the ends of her hair and admired her long lashes. His headache was now a dull soreness. Philip finally had Chloe to himself. Now was as good a time as it was going to get. 

"So, um, how did you meet Brady anyways?" asked Philip, as nonchalantly as he could. 

"Hmmm?" Chloe smiled, as her puppy sleepily rubbed his cool nose against her finger. 

"Chloe, how'd you meet Brady?" repeated Philip with some impatience. 

"Brady? Oh, Belle's brother," remembered Chloe, distracted by the cute bundle sleeping on her chest. "I met him on the pier the other night." 

"What?" he exclaimed, the hand stroking her hair pausing abruptly, "You went to the pier alone? At night?" 

Merlin wagged his little stubby tail in dream. "Yeah. Oh, Philip, I've practically been on my own ever since I can remember. I can take care of myself," she calmly said, as she watched the baby tail in enchanted fascination. 

"It's dangerous down there, Chloe. Especially at night. You should've called me. I would've walked with you." His eyebrows drew together in frustration, when her attention was still devoted to the puppy. He gently took her chin, until their eyes met. "I'm serious, Chloe." 

She saw his intense expression and sighed. "Look, Philip, I know you want to protect me, but it was fine. Besides, I went to the pier to be alone." Now, she deliberately looked down at Merlin. When Philip waited without questions, she sighed again. "Being around people all the time tired me out, so I went to watch the water and sing." 

"You sang?" 

Chloe looked up to see his slight grin. She felt the corners of her own mouth rise. "Yeah, I was thinking…" _about you…_ "…and I started singing." 

His hand began to stroke her hair once more. "What were you singing about?" 

"Madame Butterfly." 

"That Japanese girl that falls for a messed-up American military guy." 

"Yeah." She looked up at him in mild surprise. 

"It's only one of your favorite operas and you only have that huge poster hanging beside your bed." 

"How did you-" 

"I was hanging on a tree branch outside your window, remember?" 

She smiled in memory of a bold Romeo armed with dimples trying to sweet-talk his way into her room. "What else did you see before you-" 

"Fell off the tree?" grinned Philip. "Nothing much. A big mirror. Some pretty bottles of perfume." He bent down to sniff at her neck, making her giggle. "Whatever it is. It works." He kissed her skin, before sitting up. 

"So, you were singing…" 

"I was singing, and then I met Belle's brother." 

"Brady." 

"Yeah, I didn't know he was there, until I heard him clapping. Then, we kind of talked about… Madame Butterfly and Pinkerton, actually. He knew opera. But he was sad about something," remembered Chloe now. She also remembered what Brady had said. Uncomfortable, she sat up, transferring the puppy to her lap. "Then, I went home. I didn't know he was Belle's brother until the next day at Salem Place." After pushing her glasses up, she resumed petting the sleeping puppy. 

Philip scratched his head. That seemed innocent enough. Chloe met brooding Brady, who surprisingly listens to opera along with his acid rock. But he remembered the way Brady had looked at his girlfriend. Chloe was innocent, but Brady definitely was not. Philip would have to keep an eye on him. 

"How do you know him, Philip? I've never seen him with you before," asked Chloe curiously, interrupting his thoughts. 

"Long story," he answered, considering his bizarre family tree. "Basically, we hang out, play basketball and football and stuff, but we didn't hang out much, when he went to college, but now he's drop out." 

"He dropped out?" 

"Yeah. No one knows why. He just sits in his room sometimes with his music and shuts everyone out. Yeah, no one seems to get him, except for maybe Belle." 

Chloe's eyebrows drew together, as she listened. 

"He was pretty cool, when we were kids, but now he's just weird," said Philip, giving Merlin a soft scratch on the forehead. 

"Weird, huh?" Chloe fixed her gaze on Merlin's baby soft fur. "Sounds a lot like me." 

Philip blinked in confusion, while warning bells went off in his head. 

  


  


With their conversation still fresh in his mind, Philip paced the length of his room, tossing his football from hand to hand. He'd given Chloe an almost desperate kiss before the walk up the hill to the Kiriakis mansion. Preoccupied, he mumbled a greeting to Henderson and Will, who were playing pirates in the den, before Philip ran two steps at a time up to his room. The glistening hardwood floors, intricate Persian rugs, and priceless pieces of art lining the chandeliered passageways made little impression on the Kiriakis heir apparent. 

From birth, the spoons were polished silver and the glasses melodious crystal. At the slightest sniff, a servant appeared and vanished like smoke to press his clothes or fetch a forgotten toy. He'd never thought twice or even once about it. Only with the start of school did Philip realize the wealth and power of his family name. With adolescence, when peer acceptance made or broke a high school career, Philip milked his last name for all it was worth. All of life was a game and the higher the stakes - whether they be money, girls, or manhood - the better. The schoolteachers and administrators carefully avoided unpleasant family conferences, particularly since his mother would hear nothing but praise about her youngest and most beloved child. 

Relief came, when his father recovered from his stroke and informed his son and school officials that nothing but the best would be expected from a Kiriakis. His father's position had come from blood, sweat, and cunning. Thus, success through hard work was regarded with highest respect and acquisition via lazy shortcuts with disdain. Thereafter, to his mother's dismay, Philip scrubbed pool mildew, weeded acres of flowerbeds, washed and polished the silver, and kept the stables side by side with the servants. In time, his babied hands toughened, and he learned to appreciate Henderson and other servants, who performed an intimidating list of duties, but somehow found time to play with the lonely Kiriakis children. 

At school, however, Philip still reigned as crown prince. Boys emulated his cocky stride. Girls went out of their way to conveniently cross his path. But somehow, for all his popularity, he was lonely. His teammates fought to stand as close as they could to Philip in the yearbook picture, while contorted cheerleaders formed his name on the field. But after the practices, games, and drunken parties, few made the effort to get to know him beyond the Kiriakis. So, when he was alone and merely Philip, he was friendless and unhappy. 

Until a magical night on the pier, where he met Chloe beyond the Ghoul Girl. A once guarded weirdo, who snapped like a croc, if someone stepped too close, wept, because she'd exposed her musical gift, thus herself to the world. He discovered that he was not the only one trapped behind an image. Though, in her case, the image sucked. But he'd recognized the loneliness. Thank God for that bet, thought Philip. It may have been the most idiotic thing he'd ever done, but it was also the best thing that ever happened to him. Because it had brought him to Chloe. And with her, he found himself - a Philip without pretenses, not just the Kiriakis golden child. 

He wasn't alone anymore. For the first time, he shared with someone about his yet unmarried parents and the agony of his father's recovery. He wanted to tell her everything and her to tell him everything. For the first time, the happiness of another person was his first priority. So spellbound was he that he gave up all sense of pride and serenaded her one starry night to win her heart. It still embarrassed the hell out of him. But it worked and Chloe was his. 

At least, he thought she was. Frustrated, he flung the ball at the wall, barely missing the mirror. After the Last Blast, boys scrambled to get Chloe's attention. To Philip's relief, she barely batted a lash at these would-be Don Juans. But tonight, it was Brady, Brady, Brady. How was Brady related to Victor Kiriakis? What university did Brady go to? What happened to Brady's mom? 

Admittedly, he had started the topic. But by the end, Philip had outlined Brady's entire biography. And was seething with jealousy. 

"You're really hung up on this guy, aren't you?" he'd asked bitterly. He was alone with his girlfriend, who occupied almost every other conscious and unconscious moment of his thoughts, and she wanted to go on and on about some other guy. 

Bewildered, Chloe replied, "He just intrigues me." 

He didn't know if her answer worried him or pissed him off. They sat only inches from each other, but at that moment it could have been leagues. That frightening foreshadowing tingle in the back of his neck compounded with his headache. He'd wanted her reassurances so badly. So what, if Brady knew opera? So what, if the boy grew up without his real mom? So what, if the dude wore dark clothes and was "intriguing?" He wanted her to say that Brady meant nothing to her. 

What was he saying? Without thinking, Philip beaned himself with a pillow, sending fresh throbs of pains into his abused skull. Holding his aching head, he pitied himself. What did you do when you fell for a girl you knew was going to break your heart? His buddies were right. He was whipped. He laid back on his Chippendale bed and closed his tired eyes. 

He wished Chloe had told him that Philip Kiriakis was the only guy for her. He wished she had told him that she loved him. 

  


  


The next day Jason swung a companionable arm on Philip's shoulders. "What's this, K-Man, third head trauma this year?" 

Philip grumbled, as his fingers gingerly touched his forehead. He hadn't slept well. Then, when Henderson got a good look at him, the usually placid servant had practically wrestled him down to home-treat the bump. The stark white bandage stood out against Philip's fading summer tan. Chloe's withdrawal only made the constant dull ache worse. She hadn't met him at her locker. Again. 

He slammed his locker shut with a violent clang. 

"Whoa, Phil, what's up with you?" asked Jason. 

Philip mumbled an incoherent response and walked away toward Calculus. 

"Hey, Philly boy," whined an unwelcome hissy voice. 

Philip doggedly fixed his gaze in front of him and walked by Jan without even an acknowledging blink. He definitely didn't need her crap today. 

Nevertheless, she teetered along behind him. "My, we're in pissy mood this morning. Could it be because of a little rumor about Vampira?" 

Philip clenched his jaws and kept right on walking. 

Like a starved vulture, Jan swooped closer. "I hear your sweet little Ghoul Girl is dumping you and sinking her fangs into some college boy." 

The ache in his head now matched the one in his heart. He swung open the fire-resistant door and hoped it caught Jan in the face. 

  


  


"What's up with you, Phil?" asked Shawn later in the lunch line. "You look like you wanna murder somebody." 

Philip only shook his head, as his shoulders slumped. 

When no standard Kiriakis retort came, Shawn placed a warm hand on his buddy's shoulder. "Seriously, man, what's wrong?" 

Philip gave a jerky shrug. 

Shawn's eyebrows rose. "It's that bad." 

His dejected friend grunted weakly. 

Shawn gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. "It's probably not as bad as you think." 

Philip finally sighed and shook his head. The soggy, limp fries gave no comfort. He turned to face his concerned friend. 

Shawn looked him straight in the eye. "You should go talk to her." 

  


  


"Hey, you're Chloe, right?" asked a preppy boy with outrageously straight teeth. 

Chloe looked up from her salad and soup. "Yes." 

The newcomer flashed a smile meant to charm, but it wavered, when he looked over her shoulder. 

"Beat it," said Philip with almost a snarl. 

The boy comically bobbed his head up and down before stumbling away. 

"That was rude," commented Chloe, as she returned to her lunch. 

Philip fought to calmly place his tray on the table. "Oh? Maybe you want me to call him back for you, since you're so into him." 

Chloe's eyes snapped up. "What-What's gotten into you?" 

To fight the twin aches in his head and heart, he chose anger. "Oh, nothing. I just love it, when my girl flirts with other guys in front of me." 

Shocked beyond coherency, her face paled then flushed with outrage. "Flirt?" 

"Yeah, too bad I came by and messed it up for you, right?" His fists clenched and his voice rose. By now, Shawn, Belle, and Mimi had arrived, mouths open like guppies in shock. Onlookers eavesdropped shamelessly. 

Chloe looked into his furious eyes but turned away too soon to see the hurt behind them. "How could you?" she whispered, her big blue eyes filling before she pushed him away and ran out of the cafeteria. 

The table was dead silent. Belle and Mimi were nearly in tears themselves, while Shawn raised his palms in question. "What the hell happened?" 

The anger had drained out of him, but the pain remained. Philip covered his face and shook his head. Oh, God. What had he done? 

  


  


The line rang and rang. 

"Damn it!" Philip slammed the phone down. Chloe had disappeared from school after lunch, so she must have gone home. But no one was picking up. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" He berated himself for the millionth time. First the bet. Now this. What a piece of shit he was. Dr. Wesley was right to warn him off of Chloe. 

He'd gotten so paranoid with this week's events - those phone calls, not meeting him at her locker, and Brady, definitely Brady - that he'd lost his senses. God, he practically accused her of cheating on him, in front of everyone. He ran his hands through his already tussled hair. He'd fucked up big time. Just because in his mind, Chloe was acting strangely, when her uniqueness from other girls was the very thing that he loved about her. This dating thing - hell, this relationships with other people thing - was all new to her. He'd been her first kiss, boyfriend, everything, and he'd gotten jumpy, because she wasn't acting like previous clingy girlfriends. 

He'd snuck out of school and scoured Salem. He'd checked her house, the park, Salem Place, .Com, and the Brady Pub. Luckily, neither Dr. or Mrs. Wesley had been home to answer the door, but no amount of pebble throwing brought his Chloe to the window or door. His most optimistic guess was that she wasn't home. So, where else could she be? He ran another frantic hand through his hair, trying to think rationally. 

Then, it struck him. Almost giddy with certainty, he ran for the pier. 

  


  


Chloe stared miserably into the murky water. The tears were already spent and now she was physically and emotionally weakened. Her instincts and Belle's brother had been right all along. She couldn't trust anyone, because sooner or later she'd end up hurt. 

Philip proved it today, when he'd looked at her and called her a slut, in front of everyone. 

This is what she got for shedding the black, baggy clothes and allowing people to get too close. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how wonderful everything seemed, painful reality was not too far away. 

Funny, wasn't it, that she'd run to the pier, when Philip last broke her heart with the exposed bet? He'd also met her here after she'd sang at Shawn's birthday party and treated her like a human being for the first time. Of course, he'd called her that very night to ask her not to tell anyone about their meeting. He'd been ashamed to be associated with her. Chloe gave a bitter laugh and shook her head. Every time she let her guard down, Philip betrayed her. When will she ever learn? 

Footsteps from behind brought her out of her thoughts. She took a breath and prepared to chase off the intruder. She turned, her eyes trailing from sneakers to blues jeans to red jacket and met sorrowful blue eyes. 

"Chloe…" began Philip. 

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

   [1]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/mystories
   [2]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/music/ifyouregone.html



	8. 8

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

Chapter 8  


  


He reached for her. She retreated two steps before she could think, then stood her ground. Fresh tears burned, but she'd be damned, if he'd see them. 

"Please, beautiful…" he pleaded. He saw her eyes flicker, before she stiffened her spine and dropped an iron shutter between them. "I'm so sorry. I-" his voice cracking, as he watched her stack that impenetrable wall, brick by brick. Her eyes, so impossibly blue, grew cold and accusing. Ghoul girl's eyes. "I-I have no excuse, Chloe. I don't know what came over me. I just-" He blinked away shameful tears. "I just-" He stared into his outstretched arms. "I just couldn't stand the thought of losing you." Overwhelmed by emotion, he covered his face, crumbling before her icy rejection. 

It was over. After everything they'd been through - the bet, the serenade, and stolen moments of bliss since then, in one blind, furious moment, he'd ruined it all. Broken, he leaned against a stack of crates. 

The touch to his shoulder was so soft that he scarcely felt it. When he felt her arms encircle him, his knees almost buckled. His tear-ravaged eyes opened to meet her equally tortured blue. And then, he pulled her desperately against him. "Please, forgive me, Chloe." 

She closed her eyes, not trusting her own voice. Philip was trembling against her. In her heart, she knew his remorse was sincere, but… Old tears streaked down her cheeks. Her weary heart, abused, scarred again and again, didn't know how much more it could take. She drew in his familiar cologne and wanted so much to believe in happy endings. 

But like childhood fairy tales, they weren't meant to be. 

_In the end, he still let her down. She still got burned._

  


  


"I guess, I'll see you tomorrow." 

She nodded, never allowing her eyes to meet his, and then walked into her house. 

Philip's shoulders drooped. She hadn't said a word the whole afternoon, then evening. After he'd broken down on the pier, she'd simply held him, as he continued to blubber. Eventually, they'd sat on the dock and watched ships passing one another across the horizon. He'd stolen glances, trying to figure out what she was thinking. But she stared, almost blankly, across the water. She'd withdrawn somewhere, where he couldn't reach her. When he cautiously tucked a wayward tress behind her ear, an emotion passed over her face so quickly that he thought he'd imagined it. As night crept into Salem, they headed back to her house, walking in uncomfortable silence, never touching. 

Philip rubbed a fist over his heart and watched the soft light come on in her room. He closed his eyes against the pain, flooded with memories of Chloe smiling down at him from that window. 

If there was a hell, he was in it. 

Devastated, he turned away from her window and ran out of the gates, up the hill toward his house. Faster and faster his legs pumped against the unforgiving pavement. The streets and houses went by in a blur. The frigid air was like iced needles stabbing his face, but he didn't care. He didn't want to care or think about anything. 

He nearly crashed into the solid oak door. Painfully out of breath, he gripped the doorknob with one hand and his knee with the other for balance. He concentrated on his raging heartbeat, while his body recovered. He wiped the sweat from his brow before slipping into the house. All he wanted to do was take a long shower and then hide beneath his covers until this nightmare was over. 

His hand had just touched the banister, when he heard angry voices from the sitting room. Great, just what he needed. Another heartwarming moment at the Kiriakis lodge. Then, a frightening crash had Philip running to open the doors. 

"You're so pathetic, Lucas. So pathetic that watching Sami take you down doesn't even sound fun anymore." Nicole rolled her eyes and sneered at the sight of her so-called husband, collapsed on the floor in a puddle of whiskey. "Whatever. Let Kate and Sami deal with you. I've got better things to do." 

Drunk beyond reason, Lucas struggled but failed to stand. "Like what, huh?" he slurred. 

Her lips almost curled at the stench of his breath. "Bigger fish, loser. Much bigger fish." Grinning to herself, she turned and almost collided into a stony faced Philip. 

"Hey, Philip," smirked Nicole, "Back from the little girlfriend already, eh?" She gave him a patronizing tug on his chin and only grinned, when he pulled away, repulsed. "Aw. Something about you Kiriakis men, I tell ya." Smiling at her own private joke, she sauntered out. 

Philip quickly crossed the room to help his brother. 

"Come on, Lucas. Pull yourself together, man," huffed Philip, as he tried to keep his brother's arm securely on his shoulder. "You don't want Will seeing you like this, do you?" 

Lucas perked up at the mention of his son's name. "Will. I love that little guy. Gotta do right by him. Keep him from Sami." 

Philip almost passed out from the stink of ingested liquor. He hauled his brother upright and half-carried him to the staircase. "Come on, man. Work with me here." 

"Women," slurred a wasted Lucas, tripping on a step, "You think they're so pretty an-and sweet an-and sexy. Then BAM!" The brothers almost tumbled down the steps, when Lucas flung a fist to the ceiling. "They fuck you over, while you're still high on their fucking perfume. Oh, God." His legs gave way and he fell flat on face just before they reached the second floor. "I'm gonna throw up." 

Philip cursed. He gripped Lucas around the chest and dragged him to his room, straight into the bathroom. Philip held his brother's head over the toilet bowl and watched him retch up his supper. When Lucas leaned back, exhausted, against the tiles, Philip stripped him out of his soiled clothes and dragged Lucas in his boxers to the bed. 

Sighing from weariness, Philip picked up the phone to call the servant quarters. 

"Henderson. Lucas got wasted again. Thanks." He hung up and looked down at his older brother. 

Lucas was quietly crying now. "God, I still love her," he sobbed. 

"I know, buddy," sighed Philip, as he pulled the covers over his brother. "I know." 

  


  


"There you are," huffed Belle during lunch break the next day. She'd combed the school, searching for her friend. Belle finally spotted the distinctive long hair in the courtyard. "Everyone's been wondering where you were." 

Chloe continued to stare at two birds huddled inside a warm tree trunk. 

"Chloe?" Belle sat down beside her silent friend. She laid a hand on Chloe's shoulder but got no response. "We're really worried about you, Chloe. Especially Philip," added Belle, hoping his name would get her attention. Chloe only blinked, then stiffened. "I know, what he did yesterday really hurt you. I'd be devastated, too. But, Chloe, he feels horrible for what he did and would do anything to make it up to you. You know he loves you." Belle turned Chloe to face her. "You know that, don't you? Deep down inside? He fell for you hard and people in love sometimes do stupid things," said Belle, thinking of her own parents and her own troubles. 

She looked up to see Chloe's eyes filling and was grateful. "Plus, he's a guy and they come kinda stupid to begin with." Chloe choked up a laugh and her tormented eyes finally met Belle's. "And we're all your friends, Chloe, even though Mimi has a funny way of showing it." To that, Chloe gave an unladylike snort. Belle laid a comforting hand on Chloe's cheek. "Give us another chance. Give yourself another chance." 

Then, like a dam no longer able to hold back the insurmountable tide, the hot tears came and for the first time Chloe sobbed in her friend's arms. 

  


  


"She's not coming. I know it, she's not coming," mumbled Philip for the hundredth time, his eyes glued to the doorway. 

"Belle said she's bringing Chloe, so Chloe's coming, okay?" assured Shawn again. 

The party was already hopping with liquor and lewd water sports. Jason and Brady not only participated but instigated what was becoming a wild winter pool party. Anytime parents went out of town, Salem teens made sure to take every advantage of it. The pool was already packed with barely covered bodies, only a fraction of which were from Salem High. The affiliations of the remainder were anyone's guess. 

"I don't like it. Two girls escorting themselves to a party, dressed in bikinis," muttered Philip. 

It sure had given Shawn some bad moments, thinking of creepy jerks slobbering over Belle. Nonetheless, someone had to stay calm and rational. And Philip definitely was out of the running. "Hey, it's like twenty below outside, remember? It's not like they're walking around on the street with their suits on. Chill, man. This is a party, right?" 

Philip grunted in response. This wasn't a party. This was a neverending nightmare. He wished that he could just be a normal guy and eagerly await seeing his girlfriend in a skimpy blue bikini. But he felt like tonight was the night. When everything would be on the line. Sink or swim, Kiriakis. 

Shawn let out a breath of relief. "There they are." He pointed to the arriving blond and brunette. "See? Told you they'd come." He pulled Philip along, as he cut through the dense crowd to Belle and Chloe. 

They were already taking off their thick jackets, when the natatorium's humid air became too much to bear. Their jeans were practically sticking to their legs. 

"Hey, Belle, Chloe!" welcomed Shawn, when they finally reached the girls. 

"Hey, Shawn," greeted Belle with warm rosy cheeks, which, she hoped, were entirely attributed to the cold. The boy did have an exceptional chest. 

"So, where's Mimi?" asked Shawn. 

"Oh, she said, her parents would drop her off after the meeting with Habitat." 

"Awesome," exclaimed Shawn. "Only a couple of weeks away from finishing, just in time for the holidays." 

Meanwhile, Philip had eyes only for Chloe, but she looked away, saying nothing. 

May Day, May Day, thought Philip. 

"Well," began Belle, watching the disheartening scene, "Chloe and I have got to change." 

"The coatroom's back there," indicated Shawn, "Right next to the shower room, where you can change." It must be the humidity that made his palms sweat, Shawn told himself, as Belle walked off with Chloe to the changing room. He turned and saw gloom written all over Phil's face. "Chill, man. The night's young. It's time for you to get off your ass and use that Kiriakis charm you've been harping about. Come on, buddy." With that, Shawn swung an encouraging arm around Phil's shoulders and set out to find the bar. 

  


  


After another pep talk from Belle, Chloe in a short, thin gray robe emerged from the shower room. She'd insisted on walking to the party area alone, knowing this event was yet another step in finding herself. There were so many strange faces, all engaged in pursuit of the here and now. Girls shamelessly flirted with guys and showed not an ounce of insecurity. Oh, how Chloe envied them. She wished that she could laugh so easily and accept a stroke on the elbow without intense suspicion. Chloe closed her eyes and took a calming breath. The music was loud and pounded against her rib cage. No Puccini, but any semblance of music comforted her. 

She jumped, when a hand touched her shoulder from behind. She took another breath, inwardly hoping it was Philip. She turned and faced an intense pair of blue eyes. 

"Hello, Signorina," smiled a buzzed Brady. 

  


  


"Hey, there. And what's your name?" smiled a more than tipsy boy in jungle-print trunks. 

"Um, excuse me," answered Mimi, as she brushed by him. Where the heck were Belle and Shawn? She searched through the jam-packed crowd. Growing more than a little self-conscious in her lilac tankini, she crossed her arms over her chest, as she elbowed her way toward the pool. In the short distance between the shower room and the bar, three guys had already propositioned her. They would have been a boost for her confidence, if they'd been remotely sober and not staring blatantly at her chest. Oh, where was Belle? 

Suddenly, Mimi collided into a seven-foot giant. "Whoa, little missy." He turned around and grinned at the lush figure before him. "Where you going in such a hurry?" he asked, as he reached for her elbow. 

"Um, excuse me," mumbled Mimi, when she tried to get by him. His bulky arms basically caged her in. 

"My name's Kevin, you know, star tackle for Lincoln High," he said, accustomed to the female perks that came with his fame. 

"Uh, sure, listen, I've gotta go-" said Mimi, as she tried to get passed him again. 

"Hey, you still haven't told me your name, missy," he said, while he tightened the hold on her arms. 

Now, she was annoyed. "Because I don't want to, jerk. Now, let me go!" 

"Hey, Kev, whatcha got there?" burped his teammate two steps away. 

"Little Miss Hard to Get," replied a laughing Kevin. He effortlessly picked her up, kicking and screaming. "This'll cool her off." He tossed her into the pool with his buddies cracking up behind him. 

"Hey, asshole!" Jason shoved him from behind. Kevin turned, itchy for a fight, until he realized that he faced a growling pack of Salem High football stars. Kevin's teammates backed away, knowing they were outnumbered and out-muscled. 

Jason jumped into the pool and guided a shivering Mimi to the pool's edge and lifted her out. His buddy handed him a towel, which he wrapped around her. 

Kevin looked on, simmering with anger. 

Jason stared him down, pulling Mimi to his side. "What, punk? Not so tough, when you're not pushing around a girl, aren't you? You come near her again and you'll be sorry." 

"This ain't over, man," threatened Kevin, before he reluctantly turned and walked away with his buddies to the bar. 

Jason clenched his fist, almost wishing the boy had been stupid enough to throw a punch. 

"Thanks," said a soft voice next to him. He looked down to see Mimi, timidly pulling the towel around her. 

"Yeah, sure," he told her, as he tried to let the pent-up violence go. "Are you alright? Did that guy hurt you?" 

"No. Just got soaked." She forced a shrug. "It's a pool party, right?" 

He shook his head. "Listen, don't go off by yourself again, ok? You're just asking for trouble." 

"What?" Offended, Mimi set her hands on her hips. "Oh, I get it. This is all my fault." 

He held up his hands in defense. "Hey, wait. I didn't mean it that way-" 

"Let me get this straight," she angrily cut him off. "This jerk can't take no for an answer, and I was asking for it? Oh, I know, my body was sending him mixed signals." 

His eyes involuntarily flitted down to her suit, before he realized what he was doing. "No, wait!" 

"Forget it!" Mimi turned away, disappearing into the crowd. 

He ran a frustrated hand through his dripping hair. Women. Will he ever understand them? Here he was playing reluctant hero and he got a hissy fit. He sighed and shook his head. Then, Mimi in that pretty suit unexpectedly came to mind. He speculated and grinned. 

  


  


"Where the hell is she?" muttered Philip again. 

Shawn sighed. This party so far wasn't much of one with his friend, obsessing over Chloe. Philip was definitely taking worrywart to new heights. "Relax, Phil. You know how girls are. Group bathroom visits take at least a half-hour." Then, Shawn swore his mind numbed. 

"Hi, guys," greeted Belle in a strapless, hot red bikini. 

When Shawn stood frozen and mute, Philip jabbed him comically in ribs. 

"Belle, yeah, hi," sputtered Shawn. 

She inwardly grinned and enjoyed the way his eyes skimmed her body from head to foot. 

"Where's Chloe?" asked Philip with growing apprehension. 

Belle looked toward the changing room. "She should be out any minute. Just needed to freshen up." 

Philip ran an uncomfortable hand through his hair. This was unbearable. "I'm gonna go look for her." 

Before Shawn and Belle could stop him, he pushed his way into the crowd toward the shower room. 

"Man, Philip and Chloe have been pretty edgy lately," commented Shawn. 

"Oh, they'll be fine. All couples go through rough patches," assured Belle. "So, um…" she began, suddenly shy, as they realized they were alone. "I'm really thirsty. I'd better go get a drink." 

"Oh, I'll get it for you," piped Shawn a little too enthusiastically, "I mean, I need a drink, too…" _A tall one._ "Wait here-on second thought," he added, when he spotted some nearby guys checking her out, "Maybe you should come with me." He laced her fingers with his and led her through the crowd. 

  


  


"You're mighty quiet tonight," observed Brady, as he and Chloe stepped into the solarium, which was adjacent to the natatorium. 

She turned to admire the red geraniums blooming in winter. Somehow, in this glassy warm room, spring continued, while the snowstorm raged outside. Chloe took a seat on a marble bench and marveled how some people could live in such a place, while others sifted through garbage bins for food. How did fate choose who would have everything, and who would get nothing? 

"I kinda figured," began Brady, interrupting her thoughts, "That orgy of people made you uncomfortable. The chick with the legs-" What was her name now? Brady shrugged. "The chick's got some awesome digs, don't you think?" He shrugged again, when she said nothing. "Her folks are CEOs of some company or other. Probably one of my grandfather's," he chuckled to himself. "Yeah, awesome place. Too bad the parents visit like every other weekend. Too busy with themselves to actually play house." 

Chloe only turned to look at a slender orchid, held precariously against a supporting stick. 

"Yeah, life's about give and take," continued Brady, "Awesome digs, though." 

Mellowed from his second beer, he slid onto the bench and grinned foolishly at himself. Here and now was all that mattered. Who cares, if his stepmother was out to get him and everyone else thought he was a wash-up? For now, he thought with another swig of beer, he'd party and enjoy the company of a beautiful girl. With his fuzzy brain, he was lucky to have recognized her in the crowd. She'd looked lost. He shrugged. Welcome to club. 

"So, is this charades or are you gonna talk to me here?" asked Brady without much preference for one option or the other. 

Chloe nudged up her glasses. "Why did you drop out of college?" 

"Ah, my reputation precedes me, I see," he said with a sardonic laugh. "I dropped out, because life sucks and it might as well suck right here at home." 

"Is it because you miss your mother?" she asked, taking him by surprise. 

"My, my, word does get around. Did my little sister or Uncle Phil tell you that?" When she only stared at him, Brady shrugged. "Whatever, my mom's been dead, since I was a baby, so how could I miss her, right? May I remind you that this is a party, not twenty depressing questions?" 

"You wanted me to talk, so I'm talking," retorted Chloe, "I didn't realize the topic had to be of your choosing." With an aristocratic brow arched, she turned and inspected a flourishing philodendron. 

"Man, you're pretty good at making people feel small. Is that so you don't have to deal with your own screwed-up life?" 

She gave an indignant sniff and fingered a viney leaf. 

Brady rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine. I have an evil stepmother and my dad worships the ground she walks on, so that leaves me out of luck, ok? Plenty of people grow up without their mothers and do fine." 

Chloe scoffed. "Yeah, we're your average dysfunctional American teenagers alright." 

"What? I thought you lived in that comfy big house with your mom and that surgeon. Sounds pretty good to me." 

"I just moved in with them a year ago." She sighed, when his brows furrowed in confusion. "Look, to make a long story short, she gave me away at birth. I lived with foster families, until she found me and asked me to live with her and my stepfather. We're still 'adjusting,' as he puts it." 

"Well, that should make you happy. Your mom is alive and wanted you after all. My mom's dead and I'm stuck with a bitchy shrink." He took a bitter swallow of flattening beer. 

"Well, let's just say, it's no picnic at my house either, but you've always had your father-" 

Brady jeered, "Yeah, good old Dad." 

"The way Belle talks about your father he's got to be the sweetest dad in the world." 

"Sure, when his wife doesn't have her tentacles all over him. We used to-whatever. It doesn't matter anyhow. I'm saving up to get the hell out of Dodge. Maybe California. Sunshine, beaches, women. Anything a guy could want." He polished off his beer and set the empty bottle on the ground. 

"Hmmm," said Chloe, who knew all about running away from her troubles, "You're right." 

Brady leaned back, wanting so much to close his eyes and make the world go away. "About what?" 

"Your life does suck." 

He turned and looked at her with some surprise. 

Then, her face bloomed into laughter. The corners of his own mouth itched and finally he gave in and laughed with her. The liquor made him laugh harder and soon his sides hurt and his eyes were tearing. Wiping at the tears, he turned to look at Chloe, who was still smiling. Maybe it was the liquor mixed in with randy male hormones that made her look so breathtaking. 

Before he could think about it, he reached out to cup her cheek, as her smile faded into shock. "God, you're pretty." He touched his lips to hers, and when she didn't resist, his lips pressed fully onto hers. 

Still in shock, Chloe lifted a hand to his chest, thinking to push him away. But instead, her hand lay motionless, curiously fascinated by the feel of someone new and someone who was perhaps needier than she was. 

"Oh, my God," gasped a voice from the entranceway. 

Chloe abruptly broke the kiss and turned to see Philip, standing frozen in shock. 

Confused and muddled by the alcohol, Brady followed her gaze and saw the color drain out of Philip's face. Even in Brady's semi-intoxicated state, he realized how this all looked: Brady, bare-chested in trunks, kissing someone else's girlfriend in a short, thin robe. He held up a hand to explain, but Chloe shot him a look for silence. Brady would only make things worse. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but the utter devastation in Philip's eyes left her own heart in tatters. Her tears matched his, as the gravity of what she'd done overwhelmed her with a wave of shame. 

Chloe had become the betrayer. For all her self-pity and catastrophizing about other people hurting her, she had turned around and committed one of the greatest of betrayals against Philip. 

Philip, who had been there for her without question, when she cried from recurrent fits of insecurity. Philip, who made her believe for the first time in her life that she was beautiful and special, who showed her by example that people do change and possibly for the better. Philip, who gave her the happiest and most carefree moments of her life. With all her experience in heartache, how could she have treated him so carelessly? Knowing any explanation would be unworthy, she reached for him. 

He jolted backward, as if her touch repelled him. He looked into those eyes that he loved so much and felt his heart breaking into a thousand pieces. The image of her in the arms of another man burned forever into his mind. 

_"I don't want anyone to kiss me but you,"_ she'd said to him. 

He closed his eyes against the pain. 

Arriving footsteps from behind went unheard. 

Philip opened his eyes to look almost beseechingly at Chloe. How could you, his eyes pleaded. 

"I thought, you were different," he whispered. Then, he turned, blindly breaking through Shawn, Belle, and Mimi, and ran out of the room. 

The three looked at the scene and each other in confusion, not knowing what to say. 

Chloe stared at the spot, where he'd stood, and whispered Philip's name. 

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

   [1]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/mystories



	9. Like water, like breath

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

Chapter 9 - [Like water, like breath][2]  


  


Her friends stood stunned, as Chloe ran out of the solarium in tears. Belle turned to follow, but Chloe had already been swallowed by the crowd. 

"I don't think she wants to talk with anyone right now, Belle," said Shawn with a supportive hand on her shoulder. 

"God, what happened?" asked Mimi. 

Everyone turned to Brady, who was still slouched on the bench. His eyes drooped from the effects of the liquor. So, he rubbed a hand over his face, while his sluggish brain struggled to process and organize everything that happened tonight. 

Finally, he sighed. "Maybe I should let her explain it, when she's up to it," said Brady, referring to Chloe. "Since she was sober." 

"Hey, guys," called out an approaching Jason, who'd had his fair share of alcohol. "What's up?" 

His friends looked at each other and then him. 

"We're not exactly sure, but I think we're gonna call it a night," replied Shawn. 

Jason shrugged and nodded with a somewhat inebriated contentment with the world. "You leaving, too, Meems?" 

She blinked. "Uh, yeah. I've had enough excitement for one night." 

"Cool, I'll leave with you," said Jason with a slight grin. 

Mimi managed a shrug and decided Jason was obviously tipsy. 

Shawn and Belle exchanged bewildered looks. 

"Well, I guess, I should call it night, too, then," sighed Brady. 

Belle walked over to help him up. "Come on, big brother. Tonight was one mixed-up night." 

  


  


Chloe sighed in relief, as the cab reached her house. After she paid the driver, she hurried inside. She quietly closed her bedroom door and hoped that she'd be left alone. Her coat was haphazardly slung over a chair and shoes and socks yanked off to be left in a trail to her bed. She still wore her bikini under her clothes, but she didn't care. She fell facedown on her blanket, wishing once again to just disappear. Why did it have to turn out this way? 

The plops against the shingles announced that falling snow had become freezing rain. With the house so quiet, the rain was almost deafening. Chloe pulled a heavy pillow over her head to block the sound out. Then, she restlessly rose to flip through her CDs. Her music, that's what she needed. An aria? A pop song? Agonizing R&B? Achy jazz? 

Her mind was in such a jumble that the labels didn't make sense. Frustrated, she turned away from her music. 

His face. God, his face, when he caught her with someone else. 

She walked to her window and fingered the teeny pebble-sized cracks. Oh, Philip. 

Chloe remembered one amazing night, when he'd appeared below her window with a guitar, an irresistible sheepish grin, and a wide-eyed serenade. But for her mother, it was still their little secret. Who could imagine Philip Kiriakis, the macho jock born with countless silver spoons, strumming a whimsical song about his dream girl? And that night, she felt like his dream girl. She, an awkward orphan, who was anything but popular and self-confident, was swept away in that beautiful fantasy. Since the dance, the kiss, and that night, her times with Philip were pockets of blissful fantasy. And look at how she'd treated it. 

Oh, how she wished she could take back these past two days. How she wished a dimpled Philip was standing beneath her window. 

A movement from the front gate caught her eye. In the rain and dark, the figure was hard to make out. Then, he looked up, and in a flash, Chloe ran downstairs to the front door. Relieved beyond belief, she rushed out onto her porch to see him, drenched and shivering in the middle of the walkway. 

"Philip, thank God," exclaimed Chloe, but stopped short, when she saw his stricken face. That same sorrowful face. "Philip," she began, realizing now that he'd left the party on foot and trekked in the downpour, "Please, come out of the rain." She held out her hand, beckoning him to take it. 

But his eyes never left her face, as if struck by confusion. 

"Philip, please," she called out, frantic that he'd make himself ill. She could see her breath as she spoke and knew the rain would freeze on impact. 

He spoke so softly at first that she could barely hear him. 

"I thought you were different," he said with accusation. 

Her hand slowly lowered to hug herself. She shivered in shameful silence. 

"Everyone kept telling me, 'Don't hurt her. You better not hurt her,' they said, 'She's been through too much already.'" He blinked against the stinging rain. "They told me that I've got to be sensitive to your needs." 

Her eyes welled with tears. "Please, Philip." 

"Well, joke's on me, isn't it?" He looked up to the sky, as if to laugh. "Who'd have thought poor innocent Chloe would turn around and hurt me?" 

Her heart ached for him. "I'm so sorry, Philip. I-" 

"You know," he coldly said, "My brother's right. We think women are so delicate and that we need to protect them, but in the end they fuck you over, no matter what we do." 

"Philip-" 

"There I was, feeling like crap, because I'd accused my girl of having the hots for another guy. Then, I walk in on you and him making out. So, fine. I hope you and Brady are fucking happy together." With that, he ran out of the yard. 

The tears streaming freely now, Chloe walked devastated inside her house. 

  


  


The foamy water rushed on the sand and ebbed. Their footsteps left fleeting imprints in the wet sand and washed up algae. The seagulls glided overhead, while the bright sun shone against a cloudless blue sky. His strong supporting arm held her bare waist, as they played with the incoming tides. She looked into his deep blue eyes and felt their warmth spread to her toes. Her fingers traveled up his smooth chest, as their lips met in a tender kiss. Then, his arm slid from her waist, and he waded until he was waist-deep into the water. With an easy smile, he waved for her to join him. She took a step into the water and jumped back from the sudden chill. He beckoned her once more, now with both arms outstretched. Gathering her courage, she warily walked several steps into the water. But then, the growing tide pushed her back to dry land. She looked with longing to Philip, who called for her, as the current picked him up and carried him farther and farther away. 

  


  


Chloe woke to the ringing telephone the next morning. Squinting against the intruding light, she pulled the blanket over her head. 

"Chloe!" called her mother from downstairs, "Belle's on the phone for you!" 

She pulled the covers tighter against her. Maybe Nancy will think she's still sleeping. 

An impatient knock at her door signaled that she had no such luck. 

"Chloe, it's almost noon, so you had better answer this phone." 

Chloe groaned and grudgingly reached out of her covers for the bedside phone. 

"Chloe? It's Belle." 

"Yes, I know. By now, the entire neighborhood knows," huffed Chloe. 

"Um, were you sleeping before?" asked a cautious Belle. 

"Yeah, but that certainly made little impression on my mother." 

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were ok… you know, after last night." 

Chloe sighed. "I'd hoped it was just a bad dream." When this comment was met with silence, she sighed again. "Yes, I'm fine. I assume that Brady already filled everyone in on what happened." 

"Actually, no. He basically said that he had a little too much to drink and that you could explain it better." 

"Really?" asked Chloe with some surprise. "Well, I don't know, if I'd do any better, after…" She looked at the Last Blast photo of her and Philip. 

"Chloe?" 

She turned away from the picture and plucked at her blanket. "I don't feel like talking about it right now…" 

Belle sighed. "I figured, it was pretty serious. Have you talked to him yet?" 

Chloe's eyes flitted to the photo again. "He came by last night." Remembering, her eyes filled. "Listen, I can't talk about it right now." 

Sensing she'd pushed as far as she safely could, Belle relented. "Ok. Remember, I'm here for you, ok, Chloe?" 

"Thanks," said Chloe. 

"Ok, talk to you later." 

Chloe set down the phone. She turned toward the sunlight cascading through her windows. Tomorrow comes, no matter the course of yesterday. If anyone knew this painful fact of life, it was Chloe. Yesterday, she was Philip's beloved. Today, she wasn't. 

She closed her stinging eyes a moment. Gathering her resources, she pulled herself out of bed. She indulged in a long hot shower and took her time drying and brushing her hair. 

"Chloe!" called her mother from downstairs, "Come down for brunch!" 

Chloe sighed. She looked over to her window, where every romantic wish came to life. Life goes on and in an excruciating manner. She gradually pulled on her clothes, while her mother continued to yell for her. The knock on her door was the final straw. 

"Ok, mother!" She yanked open the door to find Mimi standing there. More than a little surprised, given that Mimi had never knocked - broken in, yes, but never knocked - on her door the entire summer and fall that she had lived with the Wesleys, Chloe stood speechless. 

Obviously uncomfortable, Mimi resisted shifting on her feet. 

Finally, Chloe spoke up. "Yes, was there something you wanted?" 

"Um, well, I just wanted to drop by…" 

Chloe's forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. "Ok… if my mother sent you to hurry me along, just tell her to chill." 

"Your mom didn't send me." Mimi sighed. "Look, Chloe, my family's moving into the new house in a week or so and we've managed to not kill each other up to this point." 

Chloe's eyes widened in further confusion. "Ok…" 

"What I'm saying is… Look, are you ok? I mean, after last night?" asked Mimi. 

"Oh, I get it. Belle sent you." 

"No. I just saw how upset you were last night and I just wanted to see… forget it." Mimi turned to walk to her own room. 

"Mimi, wait." 

She paused in mid-stride and turned around. 

"I'm alright. Kind of depressed… ok, really depressed, but I'm alright." 

"Did you and Phil have a fight last night?" ventured Mimi. 

Chloe sighed. 

"Ok, you don't have to tell me," said Mimi, turning around again. 

"Philip and I aren't doing so well. Actually, I think we've broken up," Chloe sadly admitted. 

"What?! You're kidding. What happened?" asked Mimi a little too excitedly. 

"Gee, Meems, thanks for the sympathy," said Chloe dryly. 

Mimi drooped her repentant head a bit. "I'm sorry. I have a habit of getting excited for gossip. I mean, not that I'd blab it to everyone or anyone." 

Nonetheless, Chloe made sure to choose her words carefully, despite Mimi's assurances. "Let's just say I wish that things didn't turn out the way they did." 

"Does that mean you want to get back together with him?" 

Chloe blinked at the question. "I don't know. I mean, Philip is-was," corrected Chloe, as she closed her eyes, "my first boyfriend. I'm not really sure, where to go from here and what I should be feeling." 

Mimi seemed to pause a moment and think about what Chloe had said. "Well, I don't think we ever get used to breaking up, like from a serious relationship. I do know that whatever you decide - like if you want him back - let him know how you feel and what happened, like pronto. Because I've got the feeling that what happened between you and Philip was really messy. And the more time you take, the harder that mess is going to be to clean up." 

  


  


A couple hours later, Chloe sat with her feet dangled over the dock. She thought about what Mimi had said. For someone, Chloe once ascertained, who had the IQ of a squid, Mimi made a lot of sense. And if Chloe and Mimi could share such an intimate conversation without blood spilled, then anything was possible. 

After Mimi and her remained relatively friendly over brunch, Chloe left her perplexed family for a long, intense walk to the pier. She'd tried locking herself in her room and playing music, but for the first terrifying time, she couldn't find solace, no matter what music she chose. Thus, she hoped that the water would inspire her. 

So, she watched the water lap back and forth against the dock. Even in the bright, wintry afternoon, the water was murky and mysterious. A seagull cried out overhead, reminding Chloe of her dream. It seemed that she was plagued with dreams lately. With Philip's tortured face etched in her mind, she decided that harsh reality was a thousand times more tragic than any nightmare. Clearing her thoughts, she closed her eyes and waited for the song to come. She waited for the music to synthesize and purge the feelings swirling inside her. 

But she heard nothing. She felt chillingly empty. Now, her torment was complete. 

Heavy footsteps approached from the upper deck, but she knew who it wouldn't be and sighed. 

"I thought I might find you here, Signorina." 

Chloe continued to look out to sea, as she dryly replied, "Hello, Brady." 

"I guess, you and Phil haven't patched things up." 

"Very perceptive." 

"Listen, about last night…" 

"Yes?" 

"Well, I'm sorry for the way everything turned out." 

"You mean, kissing me?" asked Chloe, while still watching the gulls swoop down for their supper. 

"Actually, that was sort of nice." 

With that, Chloe turned with her eyebrows furrowed. 

Brady explained, "Look, I was feeling pretty down about myself and trying to treat it with some liquor. And there you were, talking to me and making me laugh and it felt good. And then, I kissed you. I guess, because I didn't want to stop feeling good." 

Chloe seemed to ponder this statement. "Well, I guess, it made me feel good to make you feel better… I didn't think I'd meet anyone as sad as I was, until you." 

"Gee, thanks," he retorted wryly. 

Chloe shrugged. "It always seemed, as if everyone wanted to take care of me, because of 'everything I'd been through.' It was a nice change to help someone else." 

"Ok, I think I could stomach some of that. So, you think that was it?" 

Chloe's eyes narrowed in suspicion behind her glasses. "What do you mean?" 

"Belle's been telling me that you and Phil have been going through some rough times, like him ripping into you about other guys the other day." 

"I didn't know that Belle liked to spread gossip." Chloe crossed her arms over her chest and clenched her jaw. 

"Hey, my little sister's worried about you, ok? She just told me, because she figured you and I were friends now, since she saw us talking at the mall and at the party. Don't get your panties in a bunch, because she's trying to help you." 

Chloe sighed. "I know. Belle was the first and only person that was nice to me, when I got to Salem." 

"Sounds just like little Miss Perfect to me," mumbled Brady. "So, you and Phil've been fighting." 

Chloe relented, "Yes, you could say that." 

"Well, I may have been on my way to drunk, but I didn't notice you pulling back, when I kissed you. I, at least, expected a slap out of it, but that didn't happen." 

Growing in profound irritation, Chloe rose to face him. "What are you implying? That I liked you kissing me?" 

"Maybe. Or maybe you were trying to get back at Phil for humiliating you. Or maybe a little of both," postulated Brady. 

"This is crazy." She turned to walk away from him. 

"Running again? We both know all about that, don't we?" he challenged. 

She faced him with her hands fisted at her sides. "Look, you know nothing about me, ok? How dare you presume to know anything about me?" 

"We're your typical dysfunctional American kids, remember? Plus, you're my sister's best friend and my uncle's girlfriend." Brady grinned, "With us kissing last night, it makes for a great soap opera storyline, doesn't it?" 

Chloe threw up her hands in frustration. 

Brady continued, "I think, we both understand each other a little more than either of us would like." He paused to let that statement sink in. "So, let's test my theory out." 

"What the hell are you talking about now?" 

"I'll kiss you again, and we'll see, if you like it." He ignored her growl of outrage. "If you don't feel anything, then probably my second theory is true." 

"You're insane, you know that?" When she tried to walk away, he took hold of her arm. "You know that slap you mentioned before-" 

"You know you're curious, especially now that I've made you think about it." 

She scoffed and fixed her gaze on a nearby pole. 

"What, Signorina? You scared I'm right?" 

Annoyed beyond description, she grabbed his face and pulled his lips onto hers. 

As the anger drained, she realized that she felt… 

Nothing. 

Her mind didn't numb. Her heart didn't trip. Her insides didn't heat and writhe. 

She wasn't feeling dizzyingly desired, cherished, or safe. 

She wasn't kissing Philip. 

With that realization, she pulled back and sadly looked up at Brady. 

"Philip's the one, isn't he?" 

She nodded, miserable. 

Brady sighed. He knew that he'd begun to develop feelings for her after last night. He sighed again. Life continued to suck. But it was better that this all come out now rather than later, when things got really messy. So, he took some lessons from Belle and gave. 

"Then, I think, you should go tell him." 

Chloe almost rolled her teary eyes in self-derision. "How can I? After everything that's happened?" 

"How can you not? After everything that's happened?" he replied. "You and I both know how sad and unfair life can be. How can you sit there and not do something about it? Phil's a cool guy, and believe me, when I say, the dude is head over heels for you." 

She covered her mouth to hold back the sob. 

"After he sang to you that night, it's been Chloe this and Chloe that. It was kinda pathetic actually-" 

"Wait. He told you about singing to me?" She gripped his arm like a vise. 

"Uh, yeah. I bumped into him one night at the basketball courts and he said that he'd bust, if he didn't tell someone about this amazing opera girl and singing to her." 

Her knees weak, she sat awkwardly on a crate. "It was our little secret. Ever since then, I've never doubted how he felt about me. Even with the dreams and that stupid scene at school that day. He made sure I always knew how much he cared about me." 

Not entirely sure what she was babbling about, Brady slung what passed as a brotherly arm around her shoulders. "Then, you know what you want. Not many of us have that luxury." 

She turned and hugged him. "Thanks. I'd like it, if you'd be my friend." 

Brady resisted a sigh. "Sure. But maybe we should just take a break, until you and Phil straighten everything out." 

Chloe nodded in agreement. They each needed to earn back Philip's trust first. 

Brady pulled back from the hug. "So, how about one last song, Signorina?" 

She smiled, as he sat down on an adjacent crate. She closed her eyes and sang "Memory" from "Cats." 

Because indeed, a new day had begun. 

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

   [1]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/mystories
   [2]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/music/ineedyou.html



	10. If I am

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

Chapter 10 - [If I am][2]  


  


"I'm sorry. Master Philip is unavailable. May I take a message?" responded the servant. 

Shawn shifted the phone to the other ear, while he passed his basketball from hand to hand. "Come on, Henderson. It'll just be for a second. I just want to check up on him, that's all." 

"Unfortunately, Mr. Brady, Master Philip is feeling a bit under the weather and will not be disturbed." Henderson's tone, however, couldn't hide his growing concern for the boy. 

"I kinda got that, when he didn't answer his cell. Look, Henderson, Philip needs a friend right now. Could you let me talk to him, please?" 

"Master Philip's instructions were quite explicit. I'm sorry, Mr. Brady. Goodbye." And with that, the line disconnected. 

Shawn sighed. He still didn't understand what the hell happened last night, but damn, it had to be bad. When his mom called from downstairs, Shawn set down the phone and left his room to yell down from the staircase. "Yeah, Mom?" 

"Jason is here to see you," replied his mother. 

"Come on up, Jase!" 

A second later, Jason jogged up the steps to meet him. 

"Hey, what's up?" his friend greeted. 

"Just trying to get a hold of Phil," said Shawn, as they stepped into his room. "He ran out of the party last night, and I was trying to find out, if he was ok." 

"Oh, yeah. Mimi told me about him and Chloe having some kind of run-in and running out on everyone." Jason picked up a baseball, as he plopped on a beanbag chair. 

"Yeah, it was really weird. Anyways, I tried calling him a couple of times today to see what's up, but he's not answering the phone. Even told Henderson that he's not taking any calls." Shaking his head, Shawn sat down on the foot of his bed. 

"Man, what the hell happened? Meems said that Brady was there but ain't talking. If you ask me, the girlfriend's," speculated Jason, referring to Chloe, "got some explaining to do. If you know what I mean." 

"We weren't there, Jase, so we can't go around spreading gossip, ok?" warned Shawn. Then, he cocked a suspicious brow. "Speaking of gossip, how's Mimi?" 

Jason shrugged easily and continued to toss around the baseball. 

Interesting, thought Shawn. "Don't recall you ever mentioning her name twice, in one conversation before. You guys have a nice talk, when you walked her home last night?" 

Completely unruffled, Jason twirled the ball in his hands. "More like she walked and I swayed. Almost smacked into a stop sign. Gotta watch it after the ninth beer, ya know?" 

"Right… I thought it was kinda funny, when you belched something about not letting a lady walk home by herself. Real smooth, man." 

Jason settled back unabashed on the beanbag. His hands linked behind his head, as he grinned to the ceiling. "When Phil's done sulking, maybe we can have our own little pool party at his house. You know, you, Belle, Phil, Mimi, and me?" 

  


  


After her conversation with Brady, Chloe took her time walking home. He'd offered to escort her, but she declined, explaining that she needed some time alone to think. So, she gave him a final hug before leaving. Her time this afternoon on the pier was a significant turning point, thanks in part to Brady but primarily to that ultimately platonic kiss. Chloe had realized what she'd wanted all along and perhaps why had it taken her so long to realize it. 

Yes, she'd lived in Salem for more than a year, becoming familiar and comfortable with the city. She'd even found places, like the pier, to where she could find solitude and elusive solace, when she needed to. Yes, she found her mother and lived with her family in a beautiful house with her very own room filled with her belongings. The easy insight of her stepfather made the tenuous relationship with Nancy potentially tolerable, if not hopeful. 

Most importantly, she'd found friends, who accepted her for who she was and strove to be there for her, even if they couldn't entirely understand her. She thought of Belle, who'd welcomed her from the start with an honest smile and aerobic shopping sprees. Shawn simply shrugged at her eccentric tendencies and asked about her dreams. Even Mimi, whom Chloe had pegged as hopelessly selfish and shallow, somehow came through for her in the end. 

But for all her fairy tale dreams, Philip was something she had never expected. 

She quietly closed the front door behind her and crept upstairs to her room. Time to settle this, she thought, as she locked the bedroom door and shed her heavy coat. Once and for all, she would face her demons. She walked to the mirror and stared at the reflected image. She once towered over her classmates throughout elementary school and middle school. Even then, Chloe Lane stood out, when she wanted so much to fade invisibly into the background. But now vibrant, sleek colors replaced the drab, dark clothes that she'd used to disguise herself. To protect herself. Because it was Chloe against a cold, conniving world. 

She smoothed back her hair, which fell rich, thick, and endless down her back. During childhood, she'd never stayed with one family long enough for anyone to offer to trim back her hair. Later, she didn't want to bother, as long as it stayed out her way. But now, she took the time to brush, style, and care for it. Because it was apart of her. Because it made her unique and special. Because Philip could spend hours running his fingers through it. 

Her eyes lifted to meet their reflection. They blinked through her dark rimmed spectacles. She remembered that night on the pier, when Philip had come after her, after Ghoul Girl had sung in public for the first time. With little warning, he'd taken off her glasses. "Your eyes," he'd said, "They're kind of a pretty shade of blue…" The memory rushed in, swelling with emotion. She slowly slipped off her glasses to look at herself with her naked eyes. Unlike Belle's clear and naively optimistic blue, Chloe's eyes were an often world-wary, but bewitching hue. They were apart of her, as well. But in them, she saw a something so familiar but long denied. Fear. 

She looked down to study her glasses. The lenses were thin, clear plastic but not meant to bring the world into sharper focus. Chloe, then, realized that she was humming. The tune was from the "Phantom of the Opera." She looked to her reflected image again, as she softly sang. 

"Masquerade… Paper faces on parade… Masquerade… Hide your face, so the world will never find you." 

She brought her hand to her mouth, while the truth seeped painfully into her heart. She closed her eyes against her reflection. She sang, "Too many years… fighting back tears… Why can't the past just die…? Try to forgive… teach me to live… give me the strength to try…" 

She opened her eyes to reach for a slender box to place her glasses inside. A string tied into a bow held the box and its lid firmly. Today, once and for all, she would confront her fears. She deserved happiness. She had to believe that. 

"No more memories… no more silent tears… no more gazing across the wasted years… help me say goodbye." 

Drawing a breath, Chloe gathered her courage and reached for her coat. With one last look at the mirror, she grabbed the box and walked out of the house, headed for the Kiriakis mansion. 

  


  


The security guards gave a brisk nod, when Chloe arrived at the gate to provide them her name. "Proceed up the brick walk to the circular driveway. You will be met at the front door, located behind the hedges." 

Chloe smiled awkwardly in thanks and hiked up the path toward the massive stone structure dominating the highest point in Salem. She'd dated Philip for over five months, but she'd never been to the Kiriakis private estates. Philip had invited her several times, but she always had rehearsals, family functions, or simply not enough time. Now, she knew that she'd been avoiding it. She paused a moment to appreciate the perfectly landscaped scenery, vast snow-covered surrounding acres, and tennis courts and stables off to the side. The basketball rim installed above one of the dozen garage doors made her smile. This was Philip's home. 

She took a deep breath against the rising anxiety. Today, she would break from those old fears that stood between her and happiness. As she set her shoulders back and raised her chin, she walked with determination to the grand oak doorway. 

Her hand reached for the heavy brass knocker, when the door swung majestically open. 

"Ah, Miss Chloe," greeted Henderson with a warm smile, "What a pleasant surprise to finally meet you. May I say you are even lovelier in person?" 

Chloe blinked at this unexpected welcome. "T-Thank you. You must be Henderson. You take care of Philip." 

His chest rose in pride. "Master Philip is feeling a bit under the weather today, but I think you are just what he needs to brighten his day," he said, as he gestured her inside. 

Uneasiness and guilt crept into her belly. "Philip's sick?" 

"Oh, it seems that he was caught in the rain last night and no amount of persuasion will convince him to properly treat his cold." The worried servant led her to the base of the steps. 

He'd cared for Master Philip, since the lad was an infant, and had never seen him in such a melancholy. He'd suspected the reason, as he watched Chloe uncomfortably fidget with her coat. Nonetheless, Henderson had also never seen his Philip so happy, as the boy had been in the past months. If the photos beside Philip's bed and lined across his desk had been any indication, the exotic beauty standing in the Kiriakis foyer was no doubt the center of that happiness. Mr. Kiriakis and Ms. Roberts were off to Japan for business meetings, while his own efforts to comfort the boy had been unsuccessful. Indeed, Miss Chloe was just what the doctor ordered. 

"May I take your coat, Miss Chloe?" he said, as he dutifully offered a hand. 

First taking out the slender box, she slipped out of her heavy coat and gave it to Henderson. He smiled encouragingly. "Master Philip's room is upstairs, four doors to the left. Please." His hand gestured for her to proceed upstairs on her own. 

She returned a shy appreciative smile, before she ascended the curved oak staircase. The wood was solid beneath her feet without even a miniscule squeak from wear. Small oil paintings hung flawlessly along the wall. She reached the upper level and surveyed even more lavish interiors. The walls were stained in aristocratic mahogany, while gorgeous crystal chandeliers hung delicately from the high ceilings. More paintings, greater in scale and detail, and white marble sculptures lined the hallway. This wasn't a house, thought an awestruck Chloe. This was a museum. 

Her eyes wide with amazement, she trod with care on the thick Oriental carpet. She came to the fourth door to the right and stood with her stomach in knots. Closing her eyes, her heart sang softly, "Try to forgive… teach me to live… give me the strength to try…" 

Here goes, she thought, and knocked softly against the door. 

When no answer came, she knocked again, louder this time. 

Still nothing. 

"Philip? It's me. Chloe," she gulped, when she was met with silence. "Could I talk to you for a minute? Please?" 

No answer. 

"Philip… I know you don't want to talk to me right now," she began, speaking to the door, "W-What I did to you… was completely wrong. I'm so sorry. I know I've been acting really strange this past week, but still you were there for me, even when I tried to push you away." 

She sighed. Please, God, she pleaded, let him believe in her again. "I-I've been so scared, Philip." She rolled a tearful eye at her pathetic self. "I didn't even know why. I called you that night, remember? I was so scared, because I'd had a nightmare." She let out a bitter laugh in self-scorn. "I dreamt that you were kissing me and then you changed into this… scary thing that hurt me. I couldn't tell you, because I thought I was so s-stupid, and you were so sweet and made me feel safe. Like you always do. But the dreams kept getting worse and every time you got close, I'd be so scared, because… because I'd wait for you to hurt me. Like everyone else before." She let out a breath, as the truth finally came out. 

"I was always Chloe the freak, like Ghoul Girl and Vampira. So, I wore all black and dark glasses, so that I'd beat people to the punch… I'd reject people, before they could reject me, because I was so used to people hurting me in the end. But then…" she let her tears fall, "There you were. 

"Philip Kiriakis, crown prince of Salem High. Every girl's crush and dream guy. Handsome, athletic, popular. Somehow, Philip Kiriakis thought I was beautiful. Me, the freak. You chose me. Then, I got to know you and how wonderful you were. How w-wonderful you made me feel about myself. It was like a dream… No one had ever made me feel the way you did. Then, I found out I was a bet, and I was hurt all over again. But then, you sang to me that night. You were so nervous and cute. And I knew then that you really cared about me. So, I tried to tell myself that what happened before didn't matter. 

"Since then, it's been like this amazing dream. I was myself, when I was around you, and, God, it felt so good to not hide anymore. For the first time in my life, I-I wanted to give someone my heart… And that's what scared me. Because every time I hoped, I'd end up hurt. And I wanted to hope so much with you, s-so I pushed you away, because you'd gotten too close. 

"That's what happened… at the party last night… I-I wasn't thinking. There were all these people and I felt like Ghoul Girl again, because I wanted so bad to go to you but was scared to. So, when Brady kissed me, I didn't stop him, not because I liked him, but because… because I wanted to beat you to the punch," sniffed Chloe, "I wanted to hurt you, before you hurt me any more." She closed her eyes to the shame. "But then I saw your face… and I knew I'd done something more horrible than anyone could've done to me, because I knew what it was like for people to betray my trust." The tears came freely now. "And I never wanted to hurt anyone like that, especially you, because… because…" 

She slid down weakly to the floor to lean against the doorframe. "Because no one has ever meant as much to me, as you have. And hurting you hurt me… because no matter how hard I tried to push you away, you already had my heart." When there was yet more silence, she sadly fingered the closed oak door and softly sang, "I need you, like water, like breath, like rain… I need you." She closed her eyes, as she choked on the last note. "Please, forgive me, Philip." 

"I don't know," said a slightly congested Philip, as he watched Chloe's eyes pop open, "At this rate, I think I still got a better shot at the Grammy." 

Chloe scrambled to standing, while Philip in an old t-shirt and shorts casually leaned against his doorframe. He'd been standing there, listening intently, when Chloe began talking to his little nephew's door. Luckily, Will was playing hide-n-seek with his father in the downstairs library. Philip patiently stood across the hall, taking her in. 

She looked at Will's door and then at Philip with some confusion. 

Philip gave an easy shrug, "You just can't beat a Kiriakis with a guitar under your window." 

She looked down first before meeting his eyes and softly replied, "I don't think anyone could have sung the way you did that night, because… that's when I fell in love with you." 

Philip's easy stance froze, perilously still. 

"Please, Philip. You've always been who I wanted. I didn't mean to hurt you that way. Please, forgive me." 

His eyes fluttered, while his hand held his slightly feverish forehead. "Run that by me again?" 

"Forgive me." 

"No, before that." 

"I never meant to hurt you," she said, beginning to nervously chew her lip. 

"No. What you said before that." 

"You're who I want?" Her agitation grew. If he was doing this to make fun of her… 

"No, repeat what you said right before that," he insisted. 

"Philip, I'm practically genuflecting here and you want a transcript of this whole conversation?" Frustrated, she crossed her arms over her chest, desperately close to pouting. 

Philip walked to her and gently took her shoulders. "Believe me, I don't think I'll forget a single detail of tonight. I just want to make sure about, you know, the you-falling-in-love-with-me part," he said, as his long absent dimples winked. 

With overwhelming glee, Chloe jumped into his arms and held him tight. "I do love you, Philip Kiriakis, and I think it really scares me." 

His arms tightened around her and he closed his sleep-deprived eyes with joy. How spectacular the sunlight after a dark storm. "Well," he began, when he pulled back to look into her eyes, "Think of it like swimming. If you let yourself get used to the water, like with practice, let's say," he said, before he placed a gentle kiss on her lips, "It won't be so scary anymore. I love you, too, in case you haven't guessed." 

She hugged him again. She thought about those dreams and about taking chances by having faith. When he hauled her by the waist and began a slow back-peddle toward his room, Chloe raised a suspicious brow. "Uh, Philip, what are you doing?" 

"Don't worry. I'll be good. Besides, I've got a… baseball card collection you just gotta see…" 

Pushing back against his shoulders, she chastised, "Philip Kiriakis, I do not fall for shopworn lines." 

He grinned and took another long denied kiss. "Now, you're going to tell me what 'genu-fetting' means, right?" 

She gave him a playful slap on his shoulder and laughed, as he pulled her into his room. 

Henderson, who'd observed from the stairwell, smiled. 

  


  


A month later… 

  


Chloe hummed, as she gave her hair another brush. She'd snuck away from the party downstairs back up to her room, as midnight neared. Her parents were throwing an event that they stubbornly insisted she attend. Meanwhile, the Kiriakis clan was also throwing a grand party at their estate, which Philip was expected to attend. But teenagers were resourceful, if anything. 

She looked up at her new "Rent" poster, which Philip had bought for her, after they'd seen the traveling show in Chicago. It was a musical and it had rock. Both Philip and Chloe agreed that it was nice compromise, which they both enjoyed. Of course, Philip being Philip, he had to go all out with a limo and box seats. 

Since her emotional first visit to his home, they'd spent endless hours, getting to know each other again, and had grown closer. That night, she'd given him that slender box. He opened it to find her glasses with some confusion. She simply said, "No more masks. No more pretenses." She'd never worn her glasses since, and Chloe had never felt so free. 

Her smile widened, when a telltale pebble struck her window. Unconsciously giving her hair one last fluff, she walked over to open her window. She smiled down at a dashing Philip in a long wool coat and tux. 

"Happy New Year, beautiful!" he said, as he clumsily climbed up her tree in his designer shoes. 

She leaned out to meet his kiss. They smiled into each other's eyes. 

Who knows? Maybe tonight he'll make it passed the windowsill. 

No day but today. 

[Stories by Shade][1]   
Copyright © 2001   
All rights reserved.

   [1]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/mystories
   [2]: http://gwu.edu/~shadows/music/ifiam.html



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